


You Call Everybody Darling

by petting_a_bumblebee



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Ultimates, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Almost Virgin Steve Rogers, Avengers Family, Barton's pranks, Comic Book Violence, Coming Out, Drama, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Humor, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Parallel Universes, Period Typical Attitudes, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, The Avengers Are Good Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petting_a_bumblebee/pseuds/petting_a_bumblebee
Summary: Steve Rogers finds himself stranded in “the sissyverse” where Captain America is not allowed to carry a gun or carry on the third degree interrogation; even if a crook knows something about the whereabouts of Steve’s missing teammate and friend, Antonio Stark aka Iron Man. The leader of the Ultimates has to play nice if he wants the Avengers’s help… and maybe after that he will have time to ask himself some serious questions. Like how has his double found courage to marry a guy (who happens to be his… their childhood friend, Bucky Barnes!) when Steve himself is living in a constant fear that Tony will find out about his inconvenient crush.ORWhile the Avengers are searching for missing Antonio Stark and a way to send their surprise guests back to their own universe, one of Clint Barton’s pranks goes badly sideways and leads almost to tragedy.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 29
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

If there had been more time, Tony would have talked for quite a while about Einstein-Rosen bridges, Quantum Mirrors, and Ghost Boxes and Steve would have listened to, just for the joy of hearing his teammate’s voice. No questions from Steve, even if all those Tony’s fancy explanations would have been way over his head. Steve didn’t have even basic knowledge of parallel universe theories, so why to open his mouth and appear as a dumb soldier boy in front of the man who considered almost everybody his intellectual inferior. Not the last impression you wanted to leave when you were both dying. Especially, if you were secretly in love with the man you were dying with.

Let’s put things in layman’s terms and say there was a blinding light. That white column of vibrating energy was invisible to everybody else than the travelers themselves, and when Steve and Tony ended their journey, it seemed like they appeared to their locations from nowhere. Why were those locations almost ten miles apart, thought they had left their universe one in the arms of the other, could be explained by reading the footnote five in the research paper Reed Richards had written with Victor von Doom when they both were freshmen in university.

Basic math, then. That wouldn’t have consoled Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America, who had felt his teammate and friend, Antonio Stark, to vanish from him lap, leaving behind smudges of blood and green goo Tony used to function his armor. Really, some nerdy theories of the universe were as far from Steve’s thoughts as chocolate, even if appearing in the front steps of a delicacy shop in Manhattan usually made a person focus on delights of his stomach. Steve was frantic, though. Tony’s visor broken and his lungs making that horrible rattling sound had told him his teammate’s armor had malfunctioned badly. And those Mechanoids were still firing at them when…

“What… Tony!”

Steve’s muscles screamed with agony after pummeling for hours unyielding metal bodies. The buildings around him should be in ruins, the smoke from the burning cars filling the air… But there was no signs of their on-going battle with that alien menace, he was in the busy street somewhere which looked like Manhattan (how had he moved there from Long Island?). Tony was gone, and people walking past him in the sidewalk were looking at him curiously. Some of them had taken out their phones, taking videos or pictures, as Steve turned desperately this way and that, trying to decipher what had happened. This could not be real, but Tony was nowhere to be seen. His teammate was badly hurt and Steve had lost him. How?

That Steve Rogers would meet Natasha Romanoff in this particular place, right at this devastating moment, could also be explained by math, but let’s just quote a famous saying. Nothing is ever so bad it couldn’t go any worse, and it did, when Steve heard that familiar, hated voice calling his name. First, he thought this had to be a hoax or a dream. Natasha Romanoff was dead, but still Steve was seeing a red-headed woman coming out of the chocolate shop. She stood there, such an innocent looking little lady, in her snappy summer dress and a white paper bag in her hand.

That traitorous skank! A woman who had made her cronies kill Clint Barton’s wife and kids, stood there, smiling at Steve, like Clint had never nailed her ass on the wall with his arrows.

“Steve! So you are canceling your road-trip, huh? Did Fury call you back? Do you need any help?”

Making fun of him? This had to be some hallucinogenic gas or spell or some other wishy-washy thing Steve hated. Still his reflexes were faster than his brain, and even if his mind told him it couldn’t be Natasha Romanoff standing in front of him, his shield was already flying. People didn’t take cover, duh, it was Captain America. The nation’s own vintage hero, who in Cosmo’s interview had confessed he hated violence and guns, because of the war, you know. So don’t show your gun to Captain America, but what if Captain America shows his first? And when had he started carrying again, anyway?

When the first rounds were shot, it was because Natasha had ducked the shield. The shield hit the man walking behind her, and he dropped to the ground, unconscious. Somebody shouted. A woman was seen to hold her wounded arm, and people watching the altercation started to realize that something was very wrong. The herd behavior followed, and lots of screaming and running emptied the sidewalk around them.

Steve hadn’t waited Natasha to attack right after he let go of his shield. When he noticed the shield wasn’t going to hit its target, he pulled out his gun, another reflex, and shot toward the place his adversary had stood a second before. The wail of the wounded woman distracted Steve so that Natasha got in a mule kick, disrupting his movement lightly that the shield didn’t ricocheted back to his hand, but landed uselessly some five yards to his right, in the middle of the traffic. Steve hopped backwards, but another kick from Natasha’s fashionable but sensible shoe made him overbalance. He lurched a step back and straight among the honking cars.

Natasha didn’t stay to look how Steve managed. “Out! Out of the way!” she shouted while running, knowing Steve couldn’t be badly hurt, his reflexes and agility were not quite as good as Spider-Man’s, but enough that his misstep would only slow him down. Natasha run and blessed her wide helms and her comm which Tony had made to look like an ordinary Bluetooth device with a range to match the best satellite phones.

“Oh hey, Nat”, Tony’s voice answered. “I am just coding… now is not a good moment… if you could call back later and… hey, did you get me that strawberry chocolate I asked?”

“Tony, shut up! Listen, Steve is having some kind of melt-down. He attacked me in the middle of the street...”

“What are you talking about? He left for his road-trip, I watched through the security cam how that sexy, jeans-clad behind embraced the saddle of his motorbike… He should be in Philly already.”

“Believe me, he is here, in the City, and he is pissed. He tried to decapitate me with his shield. Fortunately, the bus tossed him...”

“He was run over by the bus? Shit! Is he hurt?”

“I didn’t stay to look, I was too busy trying to stay alive! If I hadn’t sparred him so often and known his tells I would be dead right now.”

“But how could...”

“Tony, he pulled a gun on me. The bullet hit some civilian.”

That made Tony shut up. For a few seconds, at least.

“We are… Hey, were you able to finish your candy round? You didn’t say did you get my...”

“Tony! Focus! He in probably on his feet again and you know how fast he runs. I don’t want to be there when he catches me up. I have to hide. I got an idea. Follow my signal.”

“Yes, yes, I am suiting up as quickly as I can. But if this is some prank with Barton...”

“Tony!”

“Alright… alright…”

She had heard during the call how Tony was putting on his Iron Man armor. He was much faster now than in the beginning, this version of the armor was easier to use, but it would still take almost ten minutes for Tony to get himself ready. Then a few minutes for the flight from the Stark tower and finding Natasha. She could hide but was Steve so messed up right now he would hurt more civilians if he didn’t find her?

A pool of sorrow and disappointment broadened inside her chest. Maybe she didn’t deserve it, but during their time in the Avengers, Steve had started to trust her. She respected him as a leader and as a man out of his own time, still keen to learn and not afraid to ask if he was confused. And what had been even more surprising, somehow during those tutoring sessions and team missions they had become real friends.

Maybe that was over now. Nat knew her past was far from clean, maybe there had been some dark secret she had forgotten or thinking insignificant. What if Steve had found out and decided she needed to be punished. Once and for all. By this. Whatever this was. (Nat herself would have used some untraceable poison, but Steve had always preferred more straightforward action.)

She had counted in her head while planning their trail. The people gave her cover but she had to keep out of Steve’s sight that he wasn’t tempted to shoot again. At the same time, she had to be seen at least occasionally that he didn’t get frustrated and (you guessed!) started to shoot just to make her show her face. It was heart-breaking to think about Steve on the same terms as their villains, but the consequences of her softness would be too pricey: more innocent blood in her hands, when her past life had made sure her account books were in red already.

She had made it to the roof. The fire escape was clattering as if some heavy and quickly moving person was climbing the stairs. First came a shield and then a man. Then a word.

“You can’t hide from me, cunt.”

Steve was sometimes a potty mouth when fueled by adrenaline. Still, the moniker, which could have carried a taste of a bad inside joke, didn’t sound endearing at all. Steve’s tone and demeanor made it a pure-bred insult.

“I wasn’t hiding. I just wanted us somewhere there are no outsides. You have a gun. Why? You said you hated guns. You hurt that woman, Steve.”

Something flashed in Steve’s eyes and Nat felt a faint hope he would suddenly come to his senses and stop his folly. That chance passed when Steve took a fast step forward and pulled his gun out again. Nat raised her arms. That gave Steve a pause and she had time to jump backwards and out of the roof and the line of his bullets. It was a seven-story building, but as Nat had known, Tony was hovering there, ready to catch her up.

He left Nat in the balcony and shot upwards. Clint had already shot Steve with his net arrow and while the super soldier tried to sort himself out of the mess, it was easy for Tony to disarm him.

“Sorry, pal”, Tony asked while lifting Steve into the air by the net handles. “We usually move together more comfortably, but I don’t want to let you so near that you can rip off something from my armor and make it malfunction.”

“Tony! What the hell… but… Put me down! You scared the shit out of me just disappearing like that! Where did you get that new armor?”

“You have seen this a few times... What is happening, buddy? Nat told me you have been acting strange today. I thought you would be sipping imported beers right now with that singer friend of yours. Weren’t you planning to tour with him and his band this weekend? I bet he is not happy to be let down by his best groupie.”

For Tony’s astonishment, Steve hopeful expression disappeared and his face twisted with anger.

“Alright!” he shouted, doubling his efforts to rip Clint’s network. “I don’t know what sick game you guys are playing, but when I get my hands on those who did this to you Tony, I will break their necks. Making you help that murdering cunt. And Barton! How could they...”

“Hang in there, buddy. We are almost home. We can think this situation like rational adults and sip some sports drink, maybe that’s is, are you dehydrated? This is a quite sunny day, you know, and you in your helmet...”

Home. Steve wouldn’t have called it like that. It wasn’t Triskelion or the mansion Tony had reserved for Ultimates’s use.

“Steve. Nice and easy”, Tony was saying while lowering them on the roof of another tall building. This one was more modern in comparison, luxurious even. It had that place a helicopter could land, or in this case, a Quinjet as Steve saw when Barton stepped out of the vehicle with that heart-eating trollop. The sight made Steve increase his battle with that pesky net, but Tony didn’t want anything to do with that. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, I don’t want to sedate you! Shit, what I am talking… Computer! Captain protocol.”

They were hardly inside the building, and Steve was just about to sling himself into the nearest body and start pummeling some answers out of it, when a shining net of something circled the place he was standing. It let him move a few yards around, keeping itself some twenty inches from his body.

“Yes, Steve. It is not like Clint’s, and you trying to push through it… not a good idea. You know it will hurt badly.”

Steve tried anyway. His scream of rage and pain made Tony halt his explanations. Tony was... maybe he was drugged or under some spell. He sounded different, like he was not totally coherent, not knowing what to say, and that wasn’t normal; Antonio Stark was the most eloquent man on God’s green earth.

“What?” Steve panted, sitting down on the corridor floor, waiting his body to stop burning. “Have you all become mad… what is wrong with you? Don’t you see...”

“See what, Steve”, Natasha said quietly. “You tried to shoot me, and when the bullet from your gun hit some innocent civilian you seemed to mind nothing about it. Tell us what we don’t see, when our trusted leader is suddenly behaving like a part of his brains has been removed and the rest of it dipped in 90 percent vodka.”

Maybe Steve was taken back by the facts in her speech, but seeing that hated face up close, her expressions showing faked understanding and worry, made him blow a gasket.

“Why would I trust some commie cunt, who has sucked treason from the tits of Mother Russia! You pox-ridden whore! You think this is because I am little sore at you. Never mind that SHIELD captured and tortured me because of your crimes. You betrayed Tony! He was your fiance and you tried to steal his fortune and kill him! You let your cronies butcher Clint’s wife and children! You shot Jarvis in the head and plotted with our enemies to conquer our nation!”

“That is quite impressive list”, Clint started to say when Natasha’s angry gaze stopped him. Maybe now was not a good time for bad jokes. “Nat… if you could leave? Seeing you seems to agitate him only further.”

That was actually a smart suggestion. It would be a relief for her too. Natasha had a thick hide, but standing there, being called names by one of her closest friends, was hard to hear. Was she really that vile a person that when Steve went delusional, he would fantasize all those horrible things about her? She had though she had changed a lot from those times she had been a Russian spy. But at the end of day, maybe she had to face the fact that nobody liked people like her. Steve was a Catholic and a keen reader, he would probably say the devil reserved for the traitors the best (the worst) room inside his house.

Natasha had come to the garage. Maybe she should borrow one of Tony’s cars. To drive a little, to get her head straight again.

“Hi”, a familiar voice said. “I thought you and Janet were going on a shopping spree. You too had a change of plans?”

She turned slowly. Steve was emptying the saddle bags of his Harley.

“Yes”, Natasha admitted. “She had forgotten a company meeting, and… Steve?”

It was both eerie and reassuring to see her friend’s face looking so kind again. Steve noticed something was bothering her and his handsome visage froze as he scanned the garage quickly to detect a possible threat. Not finding anything, Steve continued his unpacking.

“Yeah, that was a bust, alright. Gabe had a sore throat and they have to cancel the gig, but nobody bothered to notice me. I was kind of pissed off, just left… and it wasn’t so much his throat anyway but what he had been pouring into it again.”

Steve sighed. He had gone through this with Tony, when the man was still drinking. The addicts were hard to be friends with. Even when they were only not so close acquaintances, like friends of his friends. Maybe it would be better for Steve to forget the whole mess. But of course he couldn’t. He was Captain America. Always fair, always trying to make it better for everyman.

“We had a fight, and now I feel bad about it… Nat, what is it?”

“I don’t know yet, but let’s go upstairs and find out.”

The things upstairs were much like Nat had left them. Now there were bottles of drinks Steve had refused and thrown all over the floor (anything except Steve Rogers could penetrate the netting). Tony was coming from the kitchen with a new load, obviously thinking hydrating Steve would be a key to solve their bigger problem. He hadn’t even started to take off his armor, which wasn’t the most comfortable home dress he had. The floor had dark repulsor stains which indicated Tony had flown inside again. There was no way Pepper wouldn’t be scolding them.

There seemed to be sodas and sport drinks and water bottles. Tony didn’t drop the box, he put it carefully on the floor instead when he saw who was coming towards them from the elevator.

Barton whistled. “Oh shit, Nat. I knew your feelings were hurt when Steve here started name calling, but you shouldn’t need to make us a new one. What if he hates you too? Then we have to listen to them in stereo, and he is so old I doubt he comes with DTS sound.”

“Alright”, Tony mumbled, not turning his visor from Steve-standing-besides-the-elevator. “Alright, but how do we know which one...”

Natasha snorted unladylike to that idea. “How about we pick up that one who doesn’t want me dead?”

“Yes, Nat. A good point. Now, maybe… should we call Fury and ask him to remove that… whatever he is. Shit, maybe I better…”

The armor stood still, even if the man inside sounded he was about to faint. Tony opened his visor and took a long pull from the water bottle. “Yes, much better. The new cooling system… some adjustments… but about our visitor here...”

Steve-on-the-floor had fallen silent, staring with an open-mouthed disbelieve which was quickly turning into anger. He squished a soda can in his hand and threw it toward Tony.

“What he hell! You are not Tony Stark! What have you done to Tony? Where did you get that armor?”

“I, my friend, am a billionaire genius. I want some nice things, I do them, or pay somebody else to do them for me… Yes, as you see, Steve”, he continued to Steve-not-sitting. “Your double has been like that from the beginning... he is totally delusional. What do you think, buddy of mine, you don’t have a secret evil twin? No? If this is a clone to infiltrate our team, they have surely done crappy job about it.”

“Yes, Nat told me. His story of her nastier skills I can comprehend, we all know Nat could take over the world if she wanted to, but that some poor woman would have made children with Barton, that thought is like from some tragicomic fairy tale.”

“Steve!” Clint protested. “So rude!”

“And me”, Tony chuckled. “Engaged to Nat? I would never! That would be like… I mean, that would certainly be _super_ _nice_ , if I hadn’t had my lady-love.”

“So what do you think, Tony?” Steve-standing-now-besides-Steve-sitting said. “Some brainwashed Skrull duplicate? Malfunctioning AIM drone?”

“I made a quick scan and it was negative for both... Wait a minute! What did you mean that I am not Tony Stark?”

That was indeed an interesting question. They were in NYC and there shouldn’t be a living soul who didn’t know the face of Tony Stark, he had been plastered all over newspapers and Internet from the very beginning of his existence. A boy genius, a tragic orphan, a playboy, a drunken lecher, the CEO of Stark International… Tony Stark in rehab, Tony Stark sobering up, Tony Stark as Iron Man of the Avengers. Tony Stark, the reformed hero. The photos from his engagement party with Miss Virginia Potts had more clicks than an average royal wedding.

Steve-on-the-floor, like he too suddenly thought himself, went still as all those questioning and curious and amused faces turned to evaluate him. “He is…” Steve-on-the-floor started, his voice raspy because of his dry mouth. “Antonio, he is younger than you. He got blue eyes, not brown, and olive skin, and he…”

“Awww, he has looked at your eyes”, Barton was simpering, making kissy faces towards Tony. “You could ditch that little list of yours and just say your dream-Tony is more handsome than our reality here.”

Steve-on-the-floor felt how a telltale heat started climbing over his chest and neck. He was suddenly so angry and embarrassed that for a second he forget his worry over Antonio. “How dare you! He is not my dream-anything! What the hell do you insinuate! You just joke around when Tony could be seriously hurt! He could be dying while you force me to sit here, listen to your bullshit!”

“Whoa! Hold your horses, big guy. Nobody is trying to rattle open the door of your itchy-bitchy closet.”

“Clint, try to focus here. Did anyone else notice he called me Antonio. Smells like a parallel universe stuff to me, don’t you think?”

“So you think he is really like us”, Nat summed it up. “He is Steve, but from different Avengers? From different Earth?”

Steve-sitting-and-shouting stopped his angry tirade when everyone looked at him again.

“I can’t say for sure”, Tony hesitated. “I mean, he could be a bad guy there. He could be some Hydra subplot, but...”

Steve-standing moved forward and squatted in front of his double, who was now gazing them suspiciously. Steve-sitting had been in the battle recently. His uniform was dirty and damaged, and it usually took much to even scratch their gear. He had his helmet still on, but it couldn’t hide the tightness around his eyes. They seemed to be about the same age, but sitting there the man looked older, like he was carrying a massive load on his shoulders, and unlike his counterpart, he had nobody to help with that burden.

Steve stood up again. He had made his decision.

“I always have that face when I am scared for something or somebody and out of my luck”, he explained. “I think Tony’s theory sounds solid. Tony, get him out of that thing and then, Clint, you can give him his shield back. I really don’t like the way you are touching it. I looks… unsavory.”

“Well, you don’t let me touch yours”, Clint reasoned. “Really. How about his guns?”

“No guns. Now, SteveToo, you play nice. No attacking any of us. We may look like people you know, but believe me, we are strangers. As you can guess, I am Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America. That lady you seem to have a beef with is called Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow. She is indeed a former Russian citizen, started her career here as a Russian spy, but she is part of our team now, a trusted teammate and a friend, and even if she weren’t that shouldn’t be you problem. Is that clear?”

“Yes”, SteveToo said. The glowing net was suddenly gone and he stood up, locking his knees and standing at parade rest as his host continued the introductions. “That guy with the worst one liners in town is Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, and Tony Stark… Anthony, actually, not Antonio. Our invincible Iron Man and a tech genius, the designer of the sci-fi goodies you will see around here. There are others, but they are on a mission or rotating their free days, so you are not going to meet them at least today. We are part of the SHIELD’s strike team against superpowered or extraterrestrial threats. We are called the Avengers. Do you have something like that in your universe?”

The Avengers. What a strange name. What would they be avenging? “Yes, we too have a team, and Tony and I are part of it. We are called the Ultimates.”

“No way! Sounds like a bunch of hunk dancers or something.”

“Clint...”

While the teammates quipped, he looked at Tony Stark again. It made sense that Antonio was one of the kind. You could always breed more super soldiers, they were only drugs and gym, so it was no wonder he and his own counterpart were so much alike. Yes, those cold blue eyes were familiar, but the man’s smile was strange, not exactly unfriendly, but not happy either, like his mind was in a state of permanent melancholy. His own lips were more often than not twisted in honestly angry grimace.

“Let’s go to our living quarters. Then you can tell us about yourself and this Antonio. Do you think he is also here somewhere? And how did you actually get here?”

Straight to the point. That was good. At least that Steve was not an idiot. Maybe he and Antonio had some hope left.

He picked up a few bottles. His temper tantrum seemed childish now. Suddenly he was so thirsty he felt sand on his tongue.

“Yes. Good. Drink something. You are so dehydrated your hands are shaking. It would take lots of hours to reduce Steve to that state… A hard battle?”

“Worse”, he rasped to Tony who was not Tony. “A surprise swarm of Mechanoid hatchlings.”

“Never heard about them”, the other Steve confessed. “OK, Tony, get out of your armor asap. Get a shower. Everyone, meet us in the kitchen in fifteen.”

They went to the elevator and ride down some five floors. There was a large lounge area and after that a common room and a kitchen. Tony had continued the journey down, but the others seemed to have rooms of their own on that same floor.

“This is mine. You can take a shower too. Help yourself with the clothes you find in the closet. I will be in the kitchen doing us something to eat.”

“Antonio…”

“Doesn’t get help if you collapse and we don’t hear your tale. Tony is the science brain of this team. Do you know anything about traveling through the dimensions? I didn’t think so, me neither. He will need that fifteen to get out of his armor and tidy himself up. Use it wisely.”

The door closed. He was left alone in the good-sized and comfortable looking room, so unlike his own dreary residence in Brooklyn. Not this Brooklyn, if this universe had that neighborhood, but… He had a fleeting thought what he would lose if they got stuck in here, and it wasn’t much. Not for him anyway. Antonio, though, would be pissed off. No luxurious penthouse or silken dressing gowns or anything nice he had used to take for granted. Only what these stranger were ready to give them.

The uniform felt like it was glued to his skin by sweat and blood and that odd substance those Mechanoids had leaked all over them. Fifteen minutes was too much time to wait, but too little time to soak himself free. He ended up cleaning his face and hands. The bathroom was warm, and his eyelids began to droop with weariness but he yanked them open, rubbed away the green goo, which made his fingers glitter in the light. It felt partly like he was rubbing away Antonio himself, and the feeling of anxious displacement made him bite his teeth harder together. _Don’t puke,_ he ordered his body. _Don’t start crying, if you collapse now, it doesn’t help Antonio._ After he had waken up from the ice he had seen many strange things and fought many hard battles. This wasn’t in top ten. _Just keep it together for a little longer and wait if these Avengers_ _can_ _really help you with the search._

He couldn’t sit. He couldn’t lie down. He would have been dead to the world in a second, so he let himself stand in the middle of the room his shield in his hand until there was a knock on the door. The real owner of the room didn’t start nagging when he saw his feeble efforts for personal hygiene.

“Yeah, if my Tony were missing, neither would I be comfortable in sweats right now… I would like to be in my full gear, just in case. Here, take these.”

That was a familiar looking harness, which was used to keep the shield on one’s back. His numb and shaky fingers didn’t do much to the clasps, but somehow he get it right before they were in the kitchen again. That commie… Natasha, he reminded himself, was sitting on the couch, a cup of tea in her hand. Her gaze was cautious, and it had more intelligence than in Barton’s leering looks. The archer had a bowl and he was munching something which looked like cereals.

Thank god, there was also the other Tony. The inventor gave him a worried look before he started fussing around a fancy looking coffee machine.

“Hope this espresso works… Lots of it, he seems like he is about to collapse.”

“No coffee for him”, Nat said firmly. “He is still dehydrated and caffeine would make it only worse. He is going to drink more sport drinks and water, and after he has told us everything, he can eat. Not before, the food will make him pass out faster.”

Why was she talking like that? Like she cared? Maybe he would be easier to murder in his sleep. Hopefully, he didn’t say that one aloud. Probably he did.

“I don’t know what to tell you folks”, he started after Tony had pushed another water bottle into his hands. “It was business as usual. We were fighting those things. Then they got Antonio and his armor malfunctioned. I didn’t have time to search how badly he was hurt, when suddenly there was this very bright light and I was moved here and Antonio was nowhere to be seen.”

“He was then... how close?”

Was that a trick question? “He was hurt”, he repeated. “I got his visor up and his head was in my lap when I tried to check out if he was still breathing.”

“That sounds unusual, but maybe there is something which helps us to calculate his new location. Something must have messed up your transfer. I suspect that green substance all over your clothes has something to do with it. The sensors of my armor indicated it includes some kind of nanotech. I have to consult Doctor Richards about this. Do you know anything about where the substance could have come from? Was it that Mechanoids you mentioned?”

“No, it is just… I don’t know how it works, but Antonio uses it to operate his suit.”

That made Tony pause. The moment prolonged itself and he was about to ask, but the leader of this strange gathering got there first.

“Tony, what is it? Is it bad?”

“No, no it is nothing to do with this… I just have never thought about that possibility for my own armor work… Alright! I can think about that later… Let’s focus here! Children, be quiet, I am calling Doctor Richards now.”

Not so much different from his Antonio, after all. He felt how a tired and almost fond smile jerked the corner of his mouth. They left Tony to mumble to his tablet. The water, yes, he should drink. He was raising the bottle on his lips when a mundane thing popped into his mind and then it was out of his mouth.

“Where did you put my guns?”

“You don’t need them here. Tony has this state of art alarm system… And Captain can’t be seen shooting around. Hopefully, the woman you shot will be alright. For her sake and ours, if you wonder. Pepper will be very angry with us again.”

Somehow that name rang the bell. “Pepper…”

“Yes, Virginia Potts. Tony’s fiancee.”

Alright. Now he could connect the face and the name. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

That this Tony was not courting Natasha he could understand. He had never liked that smarmy smiling spider, not even before her betrayal. It told something about his tiredness he started to wonder aloud girly things like that. “I mean… Isn’t she a… I don’t know, I have already seen that both Tonys have quite big personalities. One would think she would be a tad plain for his taste.”

“You mean ego… So yours is also narcissistic dingbat?”

“I heard that!”

“Of course you did, you narcissistic dingbat. You just proved me right.”

He was afraid they would start to fight and forget all about Antonio, but Tony grinned at his team leader and got back to his call. If that was what he was doing. Their exchange had been only bantering. They seemed to do it a lot around here. When Ultimates bantered… Well, they didn’t. They fought, plain and simple, and the rest of the time they somehow tolerated each others. But these people seemed to be different. They acted much like a family.

Whatever that would mean. Better to chance the subject.

“So… there is really no Mechanoid infusion in Long Island?”

The other Steve was now shaking his head. “No there is not. We still don’t know what those are. But if this Antonio was as badly hurt as you suspect, we have no time to waste. Let’s hope that the Richards family is on Earth.”

Where could they be then? In space?

“If we are lucky”, Tony snorted, hearing their conversation. “That would be easier than the Microverse… oh hi, fellow genius”, he said to somebody on the line, turning his attention back to his tablet. “We were speculating if you are on Earth… Do you have a moment? We are in a bit of a jam around here.”

The elevator pinged and somebody stepped to the lounge. His body tried to tense, but it was at the end of its tether, he could hardly move his head to look at the newcomer.

“Pepper! We just talked about you. Did you smell the coffee?”

First he thought that his sleep deprived brain had heard it wrong. The both women had strawberry red hairs and plain, freckled faces, but that was the only connection there was. The whole demeanor of Antonio’s personal assistant screamed she wanted to be invisible while at the same time she was hopelessly infatuated with her boss. But this one… She was like a battleship in heels and a pencil skirt.

“Don’t you try to bribe me, Steve! What is this rumor saying you were carrying a gun! You just told us in that Cosmo interview you hate guns. The roar that a certain association made after your little confession, one would think you were planning to murder their first-born children. We backed you up then, but now… Are you trying to make the team look foolish? And shooting people in public! If they had been at least bad people…”

She halted as the scene at the kitchen table finally registered in her mind. Maybe now was the time to say something. Apologize. Yes, the silent storm brewing on that pretty face demanded apology, preferably right now. He almost raised his hand like a kid in the classroom.

“That was me, ma'am. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“You bet your ass it was a mistake”, Pepper said, raising her eyebrow. “Care to explain this? Any of you?”

“Not like your Pepper, I presume”, his counterpart mumbled.

He shook his head.

“Tony…” Pepper tried.

“Yes! Darling, look! Like a burger! With Tony stuffing!”

Tony had left his tablet and grabbed their arms, pulling all three of them together.

“Tony…” Pepper sighed. “Alright, you play with two Steves and the PR-team and I try to sort this mess as usual. And the floor. We have to order new tiles for the upstairs again. What have I said about flying inside the house? Just in emergency.”

“It was! Honestly, I thought that Steve...”

“I don’t want to hear it. Hopeless! Maybe we spin this around and blame a Skrull duplicate...”

She was already stepping into the elevator again. “Yes, dear”, Tony mumbled, seemingly not noticing her departing. “Steve… Or at least Steve”, Tony urged, still pulling his arm. “Come here, quickly! Reed wants to talk with you.”

That too took a few moments to register. “Whoa! No!” he shouted, separating himself from Tony. “When you mentioned Richards, I thought you meant Sue! Are you mad?”

“He is the leading expert of inter-dimensional travel. Why not?”

“Why… he is a cold-hearted son of a bitch who doesn’t care of casualties when he does his science thingies. I have met urban terrorists who have more honor and morals than Reed fucking Richards. Why would he care about our problems? You trust him, and believe me, something horrible will happen.”

A total, disbelieving silence filled the room.

“Isn’t there anyone nice in your universe?” Nat finally asked, only half-joking. “Or are you all like cynical, hard-boiled versions of our fluid morals and average goodness?”

“Talk about yourself”, Clint mumbled. “I am one cool badass.”

Natasha gave him a mock-condescending rub on his head. “Not in this or any other universe, _moy malen'kiy_.”

There was Antonio. His Tony was fine. He didn’t care to mention that one aloud, but took a tablet this other Tony was handing over to him. He steeled himself, but nevertheless the man on the screen took him by surprise, just not in a way he had thought.

That was Reed Richards? He was sporting a beard. No snarky or cruel twist on his lips, only a familiar, vacant air of a genius. Like his mind was going million miles a minute while he was talking with them.

“Good afternoon, Captain. Tony explained the situation. That nanofluid you mentioned... Have you been in contact with it regularly?”

“Yes, but it is not dangerous of anything. It is all over Tony every time. He needs it to function his suit.”

“Yes, that will do nicely…” Richards mumbled, then moving his gaze as if listening to somebody outside the screen. “Yes, alright then. You can take off your clothes now, Captain.”

Richards’s vague stare didn’t turn into a lewd grin. He was still sure he had heard right as a rush of adrenaline from some hidden last resort tried to push his spine straighter. It was an impossible task, he was as stiff as he ever could be.

“Doctor Richards”, he said his voice shaking with tiredness and hardly contained anger. “Are you really implying that you are not going to help Antonio, if you are not getting a strip tease from me like right now?”

Barton’s snickering ruined his dignified sentences. Richards was pushed lightly aside from the camera by the blond-haired woman. Sue Richards seemed to look the same in any universe; no-nonsense taking, efficient, and as it turned out, more people savvy.

“What my husband means, we need a computer model to analyze in what way those nanoparticles affected your transfer to our universe. We need your clothes to get those samples.”

“I didn’t explain that part?”

Richards sounded honestly perplexed.

“No my dear, you didn’t”, Sue said with a patient air of a person, who had done this same thing many times before. “You can have your uniform back after we are done harvesting. Your clothes should not be harmed in any way during our research.”

“I think… I am afraid there is nothing much left. I touched Tony’s neck to get his pulse and my hands were covered with it… but I washed them after that.”

“This is nanotech we are talking about.” Richards seemed to find his bearings when they moved from social relations back to the safer ground of science talk. “Those particles can't be seen with plain eyes nor will they all disappear without special cleaning procedures. If you have used your uniform even once in the vicinity of that technology, we will have all the samples we need from it. Do you like to watch police series, Captain?”

No, not really. But Janet liked them, and he liked Janet, so... “I have seen some.”

“I was thinking if you have seen them show a special lamp above furniture and suddenly they can detect there have been blood stains...”

“Sir, are you trying to make me feel at ease? Please, don’t waste time. I don’t need any kind of explanations. I am going to the bathroom to take my uniform off. The sooner you get on with your analyzing things, the better chances for Tony to be alive.”

“Yes, my wife always says I will be lost in my own head if I am not careful. What happened to Reed Richards you know… it seems I have to heed her advice with more accuracy in the future.”

“Oh, you heard that one, sir?”

“Yes, and I thank you, Captain. Sue does what she can with me, but sometimes I need a little extra nudge. Give your clothes to Tony. He will get them delivered to Baxter Building immediately and we can get to work.”

He handled the table back to Tony, who continued his science talk with the Richards.

“You can keep using my facilities.” The other Steve had moved to walk by his side, as if expecting him to collapse in any minute now, which wasn’t very far from the truth.

“Don’t worry. If there is any way they can locate your teammate, they will find it. You just need to be well rested when that happens. So… After you rip those off, it is shower time. Then food and bed. Do you need any help?”

He had gotten the harness off, but the clip of his uniform shirt was stuck. “I got it… Shit, that is a nasty one. We will have to look at that wound after I have delivered these to Tony.”

Yes, that had been only a half of it. He took his trousers off like a zombie, never minding he was going commando around his protective gear. The other Steve could have asked him to bark like a dog and he would probably have done it.

“That way… Try not to fall asleep in there before I come back.”

Somehow he found power to turn the shower tap. He shook under the water until his feet gave out and he collapsed on his knees. The water pouring over his head and nose made him gasp for breath.

After some time the water stopped. “Alright, that is enough. Soldier, on your feet. Don’t make me carry the naked you anywhere.”

A strong pull and he was upright again. His feet felt like very bad-quality rubber. He was half carried, half walked to the edge of the bed. A large cup was pushed into his hands. The straw was guided to his mouth and he sucked by the muscle memory, the taste hitting his tongue reminding him how hungry he was.

“Sit still. Don’t let yourself fall down. That is Tony’s protein shake. He is a master at forgetting to eat anything solid. Drink all of it. I will put a few butterflies onto your back. When you get some food in you the wound should start healing more quickly.”

Too soon the straw touched only the empty bottom. The other Steve didn’t ask silly questions, but pushed another drink into his hands. He emptied it too, and after some sixty ounces of that calorie-rich tastiness, his stomach felt more at ease.

“This one is ready. I just towel some of that mess out of you.”

He hadn’t actually washed himself. He was wet, but still dirty.

“It doesn’t matter. I have dozen of sheets, I can spare a couple of them. Just drop that head onto the pillow and go to sleep.”

“My guns...”

The big and vaguely familiar hands were pushing him back to the bed. They were pulling the duvet around him and not letting go until he lay quietly on the mattress. “At ease, soldier. The perimeter is secure. Now, just try to get some sleep. Your watch will come soon enough.”

That was finally an easy order to follow. He had no energy to wonder why he believed all those other things too.


	2. Chapter 2

Antonio Stark came around his head pounding. That was nothing unusual per se, he was a friend of flashy parties and those bedtime after parties, even if he was not particularly fond of those day after gatherings which usually included just him and a toilet bowl. Nowadays there had been less and less those nicer activities and more and more the unsavory part. But shouldn’t it still be almost a week for his next chemo? Was he now getting nausea both before and after the treatment? How convenient.

It was so dark he had to consider whether his eyes were open or closed. He decided it was the former. He was not in his bathroom, though. The tiles should be smoother, and not so cold as this rough surface he was lying. Easy to deduce, it was not his bed either, not even the bedroom floor, which was covered with thick carpets. So cold, was he naked? Tony wondered that for a minute and realized he was wearing his armor for some reason. No wonder he didn’t feel well, his armor was no place to sleep, there would be no sharing the body heat with some pretty lady or exercises to keep his muscles warm. Steve, he would be such a furnace with his fast metabolism burning those calories and releasing heat…

Don’t think… you have been so good recently, not making pass on guys, he had been careful not to spook Steve. And honestly, who other guy could ever compare?

Tony felt himself sinking into the strange, half-wake state. He should think about his situation, which normally would have made alarm bells ring in his mind, but his brain seemed to stuck in that lonely thought about Steve. He had sometimes wondered what made him so alluring. Well, Steve was fit, and Tony had this anything pretty goes, but besides that. Yes, there was something else than those abs and pecs and a body which wouldn’t have to be ashamed in comparison to some Ancient demigod. On the surface it seemed they had nothing in common. Steve was a storybook hero with a strict moral code. He was so… good all the time. Or if Steve wasn’t, he tried to be. He didn’t always have the answers, or he thought the answer was his fist in somebody’s face. Maybe that was it, that old-fashioned way of putting things in order, very much black and white way of thinking, which was so exotic in a modern world which saw only shades of gray.

Tony being Tony, Steve hadn’t liked him much in the beginning. Tony was too loud, too vague for Steve’s precise taste, too undisciplined and civilian to be a good soldier boy in Cap’s new team. Sometimes he thought the supersoldier tolerated him with the same careful interest he would sample a potentially dangerous zoo animal. What danger Tony would represent that was only play in Tony’s own mind. A silly daydream about those angry lips, how his witty banter would turn them into a fond smile. Steve’s gaze shining with some secret inner mirth, that stiff neck bending until Tony was able to push their mouths together...

Yes, very silly. He was fantasizing about his teammate, shouldn’t he had leaned with his former fiancee that it wasn’t a good idea. Natasha at least had been a bro with tits, when we were now talking about a guy who had broken some drunken asshole’s nose just because he had tried to grope a feel.

In that same party… it had been some ten minutes before the incident, Steve had already admonished Tony not to use his hands so much while speaking. Not to call everybody, men and women, darlings. Hadn’t Tony thought that people would start thinking he was a poof, as Steve eloquently had put it.

Tony had tried to laugh it off at first, but when that drunken ass had spitted blood on the floor, he had gotten the message, loud and clear. _This could have been you, Tony, but because we are teammates and I_ _am s_ _uch a_ _n_ _honorable_ _guy, I chose to warn you first._

Tony didn’t change his body language or any other language. Maybe he was a coward but not that much. He just… He talked to Steve about lifestyles, the one he labeled metrosexuality, for example. Maybe men nowadays seemed a bit effeminate to Steve, but if one looked at those powered wigs and painted faces and silk stocking of the men from the 18th century, macho was not the first word which came to mind. However, in spite of their soft-looking appearances, they had been as ruthless and efficient soldiers as any other men before and after their time.

Steve listened (somehow he always seemed to listen very carefully when Tony talked, expecting some kind of gay trap, perhaps?) and he seemed to buy it. Of course. It probably wouldn’t occur to Steve that his teammate would be dishonest enough to lie to him. Or to bend the truth for his own benefit, even if in his mind Tony said he was doing it for Steve.

Doing it… He had been such a good guy! Why was it so cold? And why did his chest hurt when he tried to get more air into his lungs?

Maybe it was not only his head that was hurting. He felt that something was wrong with his ribs too. His armor protected him nicely against anything, but those Mechanoids must have been new models, because one of them penetrated the hip joint of his armor as easily as a man would push his hand through the surface of water.

Then it all crashed back into his mind. Mechanoids! They had been fighting... Where was Steve? Was he hurt too? Tony tried to call his teammate, but his dry mouth let out only faint, raspy sounds. He tried again and now he succeed better, but nobody answered. _Please, please god don’t say Steve is..._

He tried to sit up, which turned out to be a bad idea. First, his armor was dead, so no moving for Tony in a near future. Secondly, jerking his body made a lighting of pain shot through his rib cage and chest, indicating he probably had gained some internal damages. No, he thought, when the tell-tale numb feeling started to move from his fingertips to the other parts of his body and his eyes sparkled with tiny lights. _Please, don’t pass out, don’t pass out until you know about Steve..._

He passed out.

He woke up again with an unpleasant feeling of his body swaying. A car, he thought, probably the back of a van. No use to shout out, and if he was honest, maybe he didn’t want those who had found him to know he was conscious again. He should stay alert and watch and…

He passed out again. This time when he woke up, he almost longed that nauseating swaying. Something was rocking him hard, drilling his armor, making it vibrate. He gritted his teeth together, but his head felt like it was breaking apart. The ache in his chest was suddenly too much and he puked out of pain, which was unusual, the pain was one thing he had used to live with after his cancer diagnosis. It was only a little whiskey and gastronomic fluids, but it earned him a tap on his head anyway.

“Hey! You are supposed to be dead… For fuck’s sake, what a mess! Jake, bring some rag or something.”

Somebody grabbed his hair. A rough and wet cloth was moved all over his face and then the fingers released him again. His neck muscles had just enough power to let his head slowly down onto the cement floor.

“You are still with us? Good. Now tell us how do we open this thing.”

“Yeah, man! We will get thousands from this tech.”

How about asking some hundred millions? People always thought the end result, not the man hours or money that was used for design work and materials and the whole production process. There was no power to escape their touches. Communications didn’t work either, he couldn’t call for help. No computer to tell him how badly he was injured or what was going on, but he would take an educated guess. He had been hurt in the battle. Maybe he had landed too far from their battlefield that the Ultimates hadn’t been able to locate him first, and these scavengers had had a lucky break.

“Be careful”, the first voice was now saying. “It may not be Stark himself, but what if he is one of those others? They are saying that Iron Patriot is again operational. What if...”

His tirade was interrupted by his associate’s derisive snort. “Does he look like a professional soldier to you?”

“Well, it could...”

Now the not-Jake grabbed Tony’s hand and raised it up, and a flash of pain almost made him faint again.

“Look at these soft fingertips. My brother’s miss makes them manicure things for the ladies, this one looks like he would sit in her pink, padded chair regularly. A soldier… this guy hasn’t done an honest day’s work in his life.”

“Yeah, alright, but what if...”

“Enough yapping. If my uncle finds us in his garage, we are in a deep shit. Go and fetch me that circular saw. If he is not going to help himself, we will do this in a hard way.”

Tony heard shuffling steps moving away. “Where did you see it the last time?”

“For fuck’s… look around! Hurry! This is it, our ticket to the bigger circles… genuine Stark tech garage sale… Hey Jake, did you look at this guy’s face? Only Tony fucking Stark is egocentric enough to make his bum boy have a same kind of goatee… must be wild that he can imagine to fuck himself.”

The comment was rewarded with a laugh which sounded like an asthmatic donkey. “Your daddy let you play with his toys, bum boy?” Not-Jake continued. “Well, you screwed something up really bad. No joyride for you, fella.”

“I don’t know… isn’t Stark engaged to that Potts woman...”

Now was not-Jake’s turn to laugh. It didn’t sound much prettier.

“Oh shit, bro! Don’t you watch those entertainment news, they will rot your brain. Rich people screw around. They take what they want when they want it. What if Stark wants to keep bum boys on the side? You think that lady says anything about it when she has now gotten her greedy fingers inside his wallet? No, she will keep her mouth shut like a good little rich bitch and buy something nice. You remember those sex tapes a few years back? Everyone has seen that little Tony, it is nothing unusual. If that guy had no money he would have no reputation. Or what do you say bum boy? Is your daddy good in the sack? Five stars out of five?”

Antonio Stark was confused, to put it mildly.

It was the fact he was somewhat badly hurt. His head… maybe he was just imagining this conversation, because… What… Potts woman? They couldn’t mean his assistant, could they? And... Iron Patriot? Sex tape? Why did they think he was somebody else? Was his face so badly mangled he was unrecognizable?

“Here!”

Suddenly Tony had no time to ponder anything else. He heard the wheeze of the saw, felt it rattle the back of his armor. The movement felt tenfold in his chest and ribs and he couldn’t prevent a scream of pain escaping from his lips.

“Sam, he shouldn’t have been alive”, the more squeamish one said, his voice tight, as his friend stopped the saw.

“That is an easy thing to change”, Sam said briskly. “Hey, you! Yes, you. Open your eyes when I am talking! You want us to help you out of there? Yes? Tell us how the rest of your armor opens, and we will leave and let you be.”

A lie. That’s right. They had gotten one of his arms off, but the other parts… Maybe he could bargain…

Or maybe not. The saw was witched on in front of his face and the one called Sam gave him a nasty and less than toothy grin. He should use his share of the money for a dental hygiene. Could that be considered charity? Could Tony get some tax deduction?

Shit, he was out of it. He had no power left even to be scared, when the saw seemed to come closer. Sam was trying it to the lock of his hair.

“Open it up for us. Do it, or I will mash your pretty little face and take it anyway. We can always empty your armor like a soup can.”

Sam made gestures like he was sawing Tony’s neck and arms. The mental image made him almost hurl. Great, probably his concussion had a concussion. He couldn’t breath more than tiny sips because of the pain, and they wanted him to raise his hand to his chest, to push the emergency switch.

Somehow he was able to do it. There was a faint puff when the mechanically controlled system of miniature hydro capsules worked out like dominoes and pushed armor’s joints apart, making the legs and arms come away from the torso.

Sam thanked him and then he and Jake started stripping him out of the armor. Tony tried not to utter a sound, but when they yanked the biggest part over his head and pulled his arms up and moved his body… No way he could keep it silent, and he knew he had earned the sarcastic tone in Sam’s acknowledgment.

Antonio Stark was not a warrior. He had invented his armor that he had something… something new and interesting to do when he was waiting for the big C to kill him, and maybe later he had thought he could make a difference… He thought how Steve would have acted in his place and knew they considered him a coward.

Sometimes he wondered how a man like Steve could even look at him without contempt. He was so weak. Without his money and toys he was nothing, just a sick, naked body lying on the floor of some garage, covered in nanofluid and his own blood.

“Come on, Jake. Let’s get rid off the trash.”


	3. Chapter 3

Steve slept like a roadkill (smelling but not especially in pain) and after he woke up, he gave himself a thorough rub in the shower. It made some of his bigger wounds bleed a little, but the other Steve had foreseen that possibility and left him with a first aid kit. Overall, his bruises and wounds were much better than yesterday and would probably disappear altogether during the next twelve hours.

Then there was only the dressing problem left. He almost fell on his ass when he opened the door of the walk-in closet. There were half a dozen expensive looking suits and almost twenty different dress shirts and button downs, shoes and boots and sneakers, piles of T-shirts and jeans, sports wear and underwear and accessories. He wondered how his counterpart could had afforded this all, when he himself had came out of ice having nothing. The salary SHIELD paid him wasn’t nothing much either, but he could afford one good suit and some other necessaries.

He shook his head to his own folly. He constantly forget he didn’t know anything about this world or those people. Who knows, maybe Captain America of this universe wasn’t from the 40’s like him, but had always lived in this time and ace. It could be the guy had some strange, good-paying computer job besides his superhero gig.

Then there were the most precious. The uniforms had their own track like helmets and boots and gloves had selves of their own, but he didn’t touch them. He chose dark blue jeans and a white T and a gray button down over his fancy, because he was sure that the other Steve hadn’t mean those when he said he could choose anything he wanted. The uniform was so much like his, but it wasn’t his for real, and he knew what he would have thought about any guy who dared to borrow one of his own without his permission.

He found the other Steve in the kitchen. It was almost funny that he had dressed himself up as his identical twin, only his button down was different, it was green with a faint pattern of diamonds.

“Ha, you handsome bastard”, the other Steve grinned and made a little circle around him. “This is so odd. Like looking at the 3D mirror.”

Whatever that was.

“I hope I didn’t take your favorite”, he said politely. What he wanted to ask was of course about Antonio, but maybe if he waited after some chitchat and breakfast he would gain better results. He was not very patient and smooth person to begin with and even less so when hungry.

“I said you can take whatever. Tony is always buying us new ones, anyway.”

Well, that solved that riddle.

“Have a seat. I bet you are starving. The others have already eaten so no need to save anything.”

That said, the other Steve returned to the stove. He was making pancakes, blueberry ones, as he noticed after raising the heat retaining cover. He moved a good pile onto his plate and stuffed it with syrup.

The first bite was like going through the pearly gates. Or it would have been if not Antonio…

“You made all of these yourself?”

“Sure. We take turns. Tony’s butler, Jarvis. He is getting old, and… alright. I shut up now. Enjoy your meal.”

Like the other Steve had read his mind. Next fifteen minutes he just ate, trying not to wolf it down. There were also scrambled eggs and breakfast muffins and toast and bacon and some tiny sausages… it was so much everything and it smelled and tasted so delicious. He had eaten fancy dinners when the Ultimates were asked to visit some party or other, but this wasn’t like that, it was god honest good food, like the one he got when he visited Gail and Bucky. He had always thought that the secrets of home made meals were one of those things only women were aware of, but what the heck. The other Steve worked like a chef. He himself could make beans and tomatoes, and maybe macaroni and cheese. When he had finally learned how to operate his microwave oven, he had gained more variation for his diet. Those instant dinners didn’t taste particularly good, though. If these Avengers took turns, it had to mean that the other Tony was a chef too. He tried to envisage Antonio with an apron over his fancy suit, making smashed potatoes and gravy, but his imagination failed him miserably.

“Tony left you this”, the other Steve said when he had finished the breakfast. It seemed to be a smartphone. Or not-so-smart-phone as he called those devil’s spawns in his mind. They had million things inside of them and they were all in a way if he wanted to make or take a simple call.

“I see… I ask Tony to arrange you some other model. I myself like this one but… yeah, let’s cut the crap.”

He hadn’t thought he was so obvious. Maybe he wasn’t to anybody but to himself. Or _himself_.

“Alright… You don’t look like you are going to give your condolences. I guess there just isn’t any progress.”

“Well, yes and no. The computer model the Richards are making is almost complete, but there was a little hiccup. Reed needed to consult another expert because of the problems he noticed in one of the equations. Someone he designed the original theory with. Victor von Doom.”

“Doom… isn’t it that van Damme fellow?”

“You recognize the name?”

“I think he is… a magician? A vampire of some sort?”

“Well, no. In our universe he is a human being, but his relationship with Reed is strained at best. The last time Tony checked, they were pummeling each others. The Fantastic Four managed to escape Doom’s first deathtrap, and… the nerds and their nerd grudges… Let’s hope they get it sorted out as soon as possible.”

And if they didn’t, then what. He wanted to run out of the door and start looking, and he would have probably done that if he had had even a faintest hint from where to start.

“I know that face too. I would take you to our gym, to let out some pressure, but you ate quite a lot. It’s better to wait at least an hour.

He didn’t want to wait. But he had to. “It is like in a fucking war”, he mumbled. “Only dryer.”

“Yeah”, the other Steve admitted, his visage getting a solemn hue, guessing his meaning so accurately again it was spooky. “We little guys, shaking in a cold mud pits somewhere, waiting when generals draw lines onto their maps… Wanna watch some TV?”

Not particularly, no. But what else there was to do? He was too restless to play cards, and he didn’t want to agitate the other Steve by winning. Or himself by losing.

He took a catch of a little black thing which was thrown to his direction. It was a remote control. Obviously. He pushed the button, which spelled TV. Nothing happened. Obviously.

“Oh sorry. The red one in the upper corner. It witches it on.”

Maybe he was so crap in this because it always made Antonio smile. The truth was these both future worlds just had too many buttons, lots of them with only some symbols. Some had texts, but it didn’t make it much easier. Mediaplayer. Blueray. DVD. CD. He never remembered which one was the which device.

The big black screen woke up, filling itself with light and action. It was the news. Steve boggled. Now it was the battle-zone he had expected after first appearance into this universe. There were broken and burning cars and general rampage as the police tried to move people to the safety from the way of the fast-paced battle. Was it a battle? First it seemed like some mutated animal had escaped from the mad scientist’s lab, but it wasn’t a real rhino, it was a guy.

“Oh god”, the other Steve commended and tapped the comm device in his ear. “Tony! Armor up. We gotta go. It looks like Spider-Man is having his ass handed to him by all the animal themed big guns he has beaten up during the last years. No… Tony, I don’t mean Sinister Six… yes, I know Mysterio can… Yes, I am looking at it right now, but… No, Tony. It is definitely not a hologram, Spidey was almost run through by it… Tony, they are ripping the downtown apart, what do you want me to say to Pepper when she asks me why you didn’t get your ass out of your workshop… Yes, I will take my own ride, meet you there… no, I don’t think it will be hard to find. Alright, Tony. Cap out.”

The other Steve was already halfway to the elevators when he seemed to remember his guest. He stopped, but continued immediately, giving him a tired smirk after seeing his raised thumb.

At least there was that one gesture he could handle. He turned back to the TV as the rhino guy run through a brick wall. He didn’t seem to have an armor, that shell was his natural skin. That was strange, maybe he was some kind of mutation. Then there was a green winged vulture… His costume looked like the one Blackie Draco used, but this guy seemed to be a geriatric.

Doctor Octopus? _He_ looked familiar. But wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

Then there was of course the Spider. This one in his red costume was not a boy with a man’s name, Spider-Man of this universe was indeed an adult, his size and his voice… but no wonder that those criminals went always ballistic with him; who would not be tired to hear his constant yapping.

It didn’t take but some ten minutes when he saw how a very familiar red and white and blue shield shot through the air and straight to the birdman’s head.

“Yes!” he shouted, jumping up on his feet. No idea what for. This was not a baseball game, this was the war all over again, even if those idiots didn’t always see it. A war against everything that threatened their way of life and values, it felt so good to pummel those urban terrorists, a battle he could win, so unlike all those other things he wanted to handle with his fists, but couldn’t. Those annoying or scary things in this new era. These idiotic and useless devices, women wearing ugly clothes or almost no clothes at all, men like upright propped tapeworms, children with no respect. Thank god, there were still some sane people left who thought like him. Men who wanted to be men, not some…

That made his thoughts halt. That always made his thoughts halt, made him feel tired and small and confused. Unworthy and stained.

“Shoot that mother-fucker!” he shouted to the other Steve on the screen, but there was no real heat behind his words, and then a red and golden missile shot through the air, a mighty flying knight, who wasn’t still the one he was waiting for. (He didn’t start to ponder the irony of that last sentence, because in his very much black and white thinking it would have made him a princess of this fairy tale.)

After Iron Man joined the fight it was soon over. Maybe they really didn’t need guns around here. Not this time, anyway.

“Watcha looking?” Barton asked. The man didn’t wait for an answer, but slumped in the couch beside him, taking the controller from the table. The other Steve stood in front of a wrecked school bus, talking to the black clad SHIELD agents as a group of news people tried to get closer with their microphones. “It seems we are ready to ditch the news. Good guys won, and all that.”

“You didn’t get an invite?”

“Against those losers?” It was so odd to see the archer grinning. Barton hadn’t had nothing much to laugh about recently. “I bet Spidey could have handled them alone, but Steve is always such a mother hen. Or adrenaline junkie. Maybe both. What do you wanna watch? A war movie? Hey, do you have _Saving Private Ryan_ in your universe? That is epic! It would be fun, when it seems there will be no public executions scheduled today.”

It took a few seconds for him to understand what Barton had said.

“Public executions?”

“Yeah. Don’t you have those in your universe?”

They had a death penalty. Of course they had, and he really wasn’t against executions like some people, sometimes he would have preferred some torture thrown into the mix. There really were many people who deserved all they got, hurting and shaming women and children was cowardly. But a public execution, in front of TV cameras? That was a bit much. Very medieval.

“Yeah, but they do that thing only for perverts. The ordinary murderers are executed in private as usual.”

“You mean… child molesters?”

“Those too. But the last ones this week were a couple of homos. Claimed to be _married_.” Barton made showy air quotes, and Steve knew what those meant, thank you. “God, I have never laughed so much! The other one kept sniffling until he croaked! I bet he shat his pants too.”

Blood escaped from his face. Fortunately his complexion was so fair Barton probably didn’t notice. “You... execute people for being homosexuals?”

“No of course not! Freedom of thought and all that. Those guys were caught in the act. They called it their _honeymoon_. (Yes, Clint, keep those air quotes coming!) No wonder divorce rates are what they are. If young people are exposed to that kind of filth, after some twenty years nobody will take matrimony seriously anymore. What next? They want children to play house? Or play with, you know. If I had gotten my hands on them first, they wouldn’t have needed any trial.”

He had nothing to say to that one. If he had liked to say something, it would have been impossible right now. His heart had started pounding so fast his ears ringed as his lungs tried to get more oxygen into his bloodstream. Any other person, and they would have said he was on the verge of a panic attack. That was impossible of course, Captain America didn’t have anything to do with some ninny business these modern people were so good at.

“Excuse me”, he croaked through his gritted teeth. “I think I… bathroom.”

“Yeah, sure. I will start, we can always rewind back to that opening scene. That is the best part of the movie… but take your time, Cap. It is just me and all those heroes of Omaha beach. All the real, real man.”

Clint turned to watch Captain Macho to go, and saw that Falcon had come to the kitchen. Sam was standing beside the fridge. He seemed frozen, a half-filled glass of juice in his hand.

“Hello, birdy bird. How much of that did you hear?” Clint said after it was sure their guest was out of the hearing distance. Sam jerked, and finally seemed to remember what he was doing. He finished pouring the juice and dropped the empty bottle into the recycle pin.

“I heard enough. What the hell now, Clint? I came to introduce myself to our guest and… Have you lost your everloving mind? If that was supposed to be a joke, it was so extremely bad taste I don’t find the words! You know there are still countries where shit like that can really happen.”

“Hold it, I have a plan. I am helping him, you didn’t see how starry-eyed he got when he talked about Tony. His Tony, I mean. He went nuts when Richards asked him to strip. Big guy is so deep in the closet that he is sitting at White Witch’s tea party. This is simple reverse psychology. Makes him stop to think how lucky he actually is, and then when we will find his guy… awww, Technicolor kisses.”

“I don’t know. This parallel stuff is quite vague. Our Tony isn’t like that other guy, right? So maybe he doesn’t have to be exactly like our Steve. Maybe he is shy. He is from the 40s. They got this thing called chastity that time.”

“Steve is from the same period. Hell, Steve is him and he took Tony’s heavy flirting like nothing.”

“A good point. If Tony were still a drunken lecher and tried to grope that guy’s ass, he would beat him black and blue. He got this total different air than our captain. He seems… uptight.”

“Yeah, overcompensating kind. Nor he is as techno savvy as our Steve. He looked at his phone like it would bite him. That guy doesn’t use Internet to know otherwise. We just keep him away from the movies or series there are guys smooching, not to blow our tale. This is going to be fun.”

“Your funeral”, Sam mumbled. He had been warming leftover pancakes in the microwave and came now sitting next to Clint, who had pushed the pause button to talk with Sam.“What are you watching… Oh crap, Clint! Don’t say you were going to show that to a WW2 veteran.”

“Oh, come on, Sam. Twenty bucks says I will get them at least kissing before they go home.”

“We have to find that other guy first.”

“That wasn’t no?”

“No”, Sam said ambiguously. “Do you have a new phone? I think the couch is vibrating.”

Sam slid his hand between the cushions and showed his finding to Clint. “No, that is his. It’s Steve. Put him on the speakerphone.”

It really was Steve, and it was not a baby-sitting call, they had gotten a message from the Richards. The problem with the equation hadn’t been solved, but Sue Richards had invented means around it. They had first thought the nanotech markers were the same in the both universes, which would have made tracking them impossible, but then Sue Richards had noticed some minor, but very distinguishable variation from the samples. They still needed that equation to send their guests back home, but for tracking Antonio this was enough for the moment. The Richards had been launching microprobes all over the area, and there was already some positives. The data would be sent straight to the portable locators Tony did for them last night. That meant the team was going to meet on the roof in five minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

They were going to find Antonio! He had never dressed himself so quickly, the unfamiliar fastening system of the other Steve’s uniform top making only a light hindrance. He had just stepped in the elevator and pushed the button of the top floor, when somebody called his name. It was a pretty brunette in a superhero uniform (those differed from agent uniforms by being more flashy). This one was modest for a woman, only black kevlar with some yellow safety stripes. Probably she was one of those still unknown Avengers the other Steve had mentioned. He started to ask which floor she was going (maybe she was not accompanying them to the mission) and then he almost jumped into the air; the little lady had slapped his behind.

“Good boy, not leaving me to race the stairs like the last time! Move that America’s ass… oh god, so sorry. It is you.”

She noticed he was not her team leader after being with him about five seconds? Even if they looked exactly alike and he was wearing the other Steve’s gear. Maybe they should hire her as a spy.

“What gave me away?”

“Please”, Janet snorted pushing the button to shut the doors quicker. “You standing there eyeballing me! Our Steve would have already thrown me upside down onto one of his mighty shoulders and tickled the life out of me.”

He almost smiled at that. Alright. While they were introducing themselves… “Can I ask, who are you, ma’am?”

“Oh, sorry. There is no counterpart of me in your Ultimates? I am Janet van Dyne.”

Something in the set of her mouth… the colors of her uniform… the Wasp! She _was_ Janet Pym!

“But... you look normal.”

That earned him a curious twist of that pretty nose. “How do I look in your universe then?”

“You are… she is Asian.”

“I see. The Asians are extraterrestrials in your universe?”

The elevator binged, coming to the upper lever. One flight of stairs and they would be outside as he remembered from his previous journey. Had it been only yesterday? He took a quick glimpse from the corner of his eye to the woman who was now giving him the same airs as his Janet when he said or did something that made her call him insensitive or stupid, old-fashioned oaf.

“Don’t keep eyeballing me like you have accidentally bitten a lemon instead of orange and found it rotten. I potty trained our Steve in the modern western values myself. I see your Janet hasn’t still finished her job.”

“Ma’am?”

“Never mind. I am sure the boys told you the details about this search mission, but did anybody ask how are you holding it together? If you are anything like our Steve, you are bottling everything up, because talking and feeling are certainly two things which make even the most courageous soldiers tremble in their combat boots.”

He gritted his teeth so hard it made his jaw jump. What a shrew! He had nothing against a lady speaking her mind, her mother had been quite a strong personality, but these modern women, they seemed only speak out of turn. No wonder this future world was going to shit everywhere he looked. This was too fucking familiar, he really didn’t appreciate the way both Janets were belittling him, yapping and moaning about their personal things like some drunken sows. Never mind that, whatever he said about anything was always wrong too.

For his surprise, this Janet was now giving him an apologetic look, as if thinking she had gone too far or being too familiar. The latter, he noticed, when she continued talking.

“I am sorry. You are so like our Steve that I keep forgetting I can’t act like that with a total stranger. We tease each others all the time... But honestly, how is it? If we meet some difficulties, are you able to keep a cool head? You realize you can’t go ballistic during the mission even if you are beside yourself with worry over Antonio.”

“I will not. There is nothing I can do about it, anyway. Ma’am.”

He pushed the door open and then they were on the roof. The flying vehicle was in the usual place, its hatch door now open. There were two figures standing on the ramp, the other Steve and some unfamiliar black guy in a red and white uniform. They seemed to be deep in conversation, which ended when he and Janet came along.

“Sam Wilson aka Falcon”, the other Steve introduced when they had all hurried inside. He reached out with his hand and Sam gave it a brief, firm sake. Mechanical wings, he thought, of course it was Sam. He remembered the science brain ex-military, who had stood in attention before him like a damn rookie. The nightmare mission which had followed; the abandoned Russian super soldier program, and the underground base full of cannibalistic monsters.

“Birdy bird, you probably recognized that handsome face… Alright. Now when everybody is on board… Nat, floor it. One minute to the first drop, people. Tony, you take Clint. Sam is with me. You…” the other Steve said, nodding at him, “with Janet. I hope that is alright with you. You two can take this one. Prepare yourselves… and Janet, careful. Don’t assume he will react as I would. The same goes for you, SteveToo. Remember, you just met a few minutes ago.”

Did she wink at him? Was this Janet also interested in vintage super soldiers? Making doll-faces at him because Steve of her universe was already taken? Oh God, now he himself started to sound like some ladies’ entertainment novel. Luckily, that thought was wiped away when Natasha opened the hatch door again and the wind pushed to his face, making his eyes water. “It is almost under us, but I have to leave you a bit further”, she shouted, to be heard over the background noise. “The roofs are no good for landing and I don’t want to disrupt the traffic.”

“No need to stop for that, Nat”, the leader of the team advised. “We are doing this in an old-fashioned way. You all know that only sissy boys use parachutes. Happy landing!”

He lurched forward as the jet abruptly stopped. The other Steve helped his exit by giving his back a powerful push. As soon as he knew it, he was in free fall only his shield to cover him.

It was at least 40 yards to the ground. Rooftops, balcony rails or asphalt. Happy landing, indeed. His old mama always said you found things you have left behind in front of you, and usually at the most inconvenient time possible. Yeah, he had showed off, who super soldier wouldn’t, he himself had said that almost exact same phrase and then jumped out of the airplane, but it had been hard to brag afterwards when you had to walk with a broken leg almost ten miles to their next stop. He had never before seen Bucky so pissed off at him and only a few times after.

But this had not been an airplane. It should be alright. It would still hurt, thought, but the pain was an old friend of his, sometimes when he had secretly watched Tony’s fight with his illness he had even welcomed it for himself too, like doing that would take some of his loved one’s agony away.

This time there wasn’t any pain, but something weird and scary instead. He landed, not on those equally hard surfaces, but on a something soft. It took him a few moments to realize he was standing on somebody’s leather-clad palm.

After his resurrection, he had seen and experienced all kind of strange things, but if he was honest with himself, this one almost got him to shit himself. Had Janet suddenly turned into a giant? That was a very human and natural first thought, but then he saw those just as big cars, brick walls which seemed to stretch to the skies. She hadn’t grown, it was him who had gotten smaller, turned into an insignificant ant, which Janet was now trying to shake off from her glove. He took a grip, even bit his teeth around the leather, trying not to fall...

…and then he was back to his normal size. Lying on the ground and partly on Janet.

“I tried to put you down to avoid this one”, Janet said calmly, rubbing her arm which had been squeezed under the edge of his shield.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Never mind.” For his surprise she really seemed to mean that, even gave him an impish smile. “Your Janet never used Pym particles like this?”

He wondered what gave that away. Yes, nothing broken or bruised this time, if one didn’t include his dignity. “I suppose I don’t do that again by myself?”

“No, of course not. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.” He really wasn’t, only annoyed. “What the fuck is his problem… Oh, sorry, ma’am.”

“You don’t have to apologize. And you don’t have to call me ma’am, Janet will do nicely. You have to excuse our Steve, he was still hyped up from the fight with those zoo escapees. He get sometimes a little rambunctious. Steve has this sensitive artistic side but the rest… Do you paint by the way?”

Maybe he could manage that question if he thought very hard she was meaning home repairs. But of course not. Was this really a good time for his mind to browse stupid memories from his childhood? There had been a birthday card for his mother, her praising his talent to his father who had given him an amused look with a conspiratorial wink. Yes, he had instinctively known that drawing and painting were the tasks better left for girls and women, let them watercolor their little notebooks and write their poems...

But what if there had been more than flowers and butterflies? There had been this boy, Paul, who had painted people and animals, and finally, him too. That had been a swell picture. He had hidden it on the bottom of his clothes chest like guessing it was not so wise to let his friends to see it.

_Nancy boy. Fucking fairy._

“Shouldn’t this be the place?” he asked, when Janet didn’t repeat her unnecessary and nosy question. “Why isn’t that thing doing anything?”

The locator around Janet’s arm looked like those wristbands which people used while making exercises. “I had to turn the alarm off. This whole area is infested by your Tony’s nanoparticles. The strongest signal seems to come from that garage. Maybe we should start from there.”

The street was a dead end. Both sides of the road were full of cars, which were so run-down looking that maybe they had been left there in a vain hope somebody would steal them and take them away. There had been no onlookers to see their extraordinary appearance. Maybe they had just watched them from the windows, because they didn’t have to do more than walk across the street, and there was a man coming to greet them. He took a firmer grip of his shield, but the guy seemed to pose no threat; he was middle-aged and tout and more anxious than angry.

“Excuse me. Captain... Thank god you are here! My grandfather was in Normandy… real honor, sir. I was about to call the police.”

“Yes, why is that, sir?”

The man had some difficulties to remove his eyes from him and focus that he could answer Janet’s question. People ogling at him made him uncomfortable even on the best of days, but now it felt almost intolerable.

“I have it here”, the man said pushing towards them a scuffed carryall he had kept hanging over his shoulder. Only Janet’s hand grabbing his arm prevented him to smack the guy in his face and then throw that possible threat far, far from them.

It was a bag, for god’s sake. There was no reason for him to have a bad feeling about it, when the guy giving it to them didn’t look like a suicide bomber. But then the screen of the locator went crazy with all those blinking lights and she opened the zipper and he saw…

An arm of Tony’s suit lay there like a severed limb. “Where did you find that, sir?” Janet was asking because he certainly couldn’t. He stood there like an idiot, staring at that horrible sight.

“It was in my garage. Behind the tool cabinet. Are those aliens now leaving these kind of things in people’s homes? Is this some kind of mind control device? Are we going to be invaded again?”

“No”, Janet said with a kind smile. “This is not alien tech, but actually one we have been looking for. We highly value your diligence and co-operation in this matter.”

He didn’t stay to listen as Janet oiled the guy for details. He rushed into the garage. Those at least were places which had chanced only a little from his time. Maybe he wouldn’t have seen most of the electric tools they used nowadays, but unlike with those pesky controls and computers, he could guess what they were used for or how. On the floor there were dark stains he knew were motor oil. Over them though…

It was at the back of the place. Familiar green sparkles everywhere and freshly looking dark smudges too. Maybe they were not so dark after all, maybe they had a hue which filled him with premonition, so he took his glove off and touched one of the stains. His fingertips came out red.

It took all his self-control not to wreck the place. Only thought about how him loosing it wouldn’t help Antonio kept him at bay. Janet seemed to sense his state of mind, because she didn’t come closer but stayed near the garage door.

“That guy gave me a few names. People who have access to this place, that kind of thing. I put them forward to Tony. He is checking them out right now. We should soon get some results.”

“Alright.”

Her voice had gotten a tone he didn’t much appreciate; if he wasn’t careful, in this weakened state, her empathy would make tears rise into his eyes.

“Steve, maybe Antonio came here trying to repair his armor. I know our Tony would have done something like that if he noticed he is stranded in the strange universe somewhere far from home… Tony, anything?”

She listened and then a small, sharp smile jerked the corner of her mouth. “Yes… Give us the nephew. I have a hunch, and I think Steve would appreciate to talk with him himself.”

That was at variance with her former, comforting words. “A hunch?”

“Yes, Stark tech is very famous and very desired… In the black market somebody could make a pretty penny out of the parts of your friend’s armor. Mr. Anderson’s nephew, he has a record. Assaults, but receiving too, so he will be a likely candidate. Tony gave me his home address. We could start there.”

“Is it far?”

“Some four miles. We can call Nat, but that will take her out of the search of those other leads, and if this will prove to be a bust… I fly over 40 mph. We would be there in five minutes.”

He didn’t need to ponder that one out. “Alright. What will we do to the arm? Do we just leave it here?”

Somehow it didn’t seem right. Fortunately, Janet had thought that already.

“I called SHIELD to pick it up. Just a few things… Keep your hands in front of your face, the air, the sand pebbles, the insects, they can’t hurt you because of your compacted body mass, but everything will feel very uncomfortable before you get used to it. When we will get there and I will let you drop, it is a sign you are going to gain your normal size. You good to go?”

He wasn’t, but it didn’t matter, if this act carried him nearer Antonio. He was standing at the garage door… and then he was up in the air. He hadn’t thought it beforehand, but Janet was carrying him her hands under his armpits, it was like he weighted nothing, but on the other hand, he knew Wasp could hit a target with a power of her normal-sized body. Wasn’t that contradictory? Maybe he could ask her about it later, or even better, let Antonio explain the math behind it to him. His face was always so lively, so without his sarcastic sneer, when he could speak freely about his science thingies...

This time his landing was more successful. He dropped, spin, and jumped up on his feet in one fluid motion, in his regular size again, as Janet had promised. They were on the roof of some apartment building. According the records Tony had found, Anderson junior lived on the third floor.

He took the fire escape as Janet of course flied. She did some reconnaissance and found easily the right place. There were three guys, all packed up in the living room couch, watching the screen, playing probably some kind of electronic game, as Steve noticed when he smashed the window with his shield and jumped into the room.

“Or you can do that”, Janet said. She had just been explaining to him her plan (which had included the use of the front door), but he had waited long enough. “The guy with a short hair. That is the nephew. Whatever you do, don’t knock him out.”

A small and fat one had pulled out a gun. He was already squeezing the trigger, but Janet wasn’t there anymore, and then a wannabe thug screamed and fell on the floor, when a painful electrical force burst from Janet’s stinger left him unconscious.

The leftover pair had frozen in the couch, their game forgotten. Janet stepped calmly forward and took a remote control. The screen grew quiet.

“You have taken something that doesn’t belong to you. Where is the guy whose armor you stole?”

“We haven’t...” Anderson junior started, and almost got himself clobbered by the famous shield before its owner remembered they needed him talking.

“I knew it! Sam, I told you… he looked so much like Stark, that guy must have been a son of one of his mistresses’...”

“Jake, shut up!”

“Jake, now is certainly not a good time to shut up”, Janet advised. “If you have some information about the missing member of the Stark family, you better tell us now.”

“Or then what, heroes?” Jake snorted, starting to find his bearings. “You gonna arrest us? Go ahead, you got no evidence. If you wanna do some third degree, lady gallfly, maybe you better tag-team yourself with something more intimidating than Mr. Goody Two Shoes here. Everybody knows Captain America won’t...”

The rest of the sentence was buried somewhere under his fist. While Anderson junior slumped backwards, he took a grip from his shirt front, pulled the guy toward him and knocked his nose out of its normal place with his helmet-covered forehead.

“I am sorry, I didn’t hear what you were saying”, he growled, while booting the hollering guy into his nuts. “Still unclear, you must speak up, son. On the other hand… do I really need you conscious or alive? Your pal here seems like he too wants to have a word. Maybe he is quicker to utter something I want to know.”

“Yes!” Jake was screaming. “Yes! I will tell, not that there is much to... We didn’t do anything to him, I swear! He was all busted up, we thought he was dead! But he wasn’t, we just helped him out of his armor and then we left him in that big green-colored house near the river!”

The exact address told them the other Steve and that Falcon fellow were near the area, they would make it there first.


	5. Chapter 5

It turned out that the green  apartment building near the  water ( where the robbers had left Antonio Stark  after stealing his armor) was not some cozy bed and breakfast place with a view. The river was… Well, it was Hudson. It was  always  brownish  because of the tons of sediment it carried a day, a nd the place,  that seemed to be a crack house. 

“Oh crap”, was Sam’s opinion when they loped up the stairs and to the lobby. The elevator looked like it had worked the last time during the First Gulf War. After the door closed behind them, they were almost in the complete darkness. Steve went to the window and smashed away the cover made of mold infested board and pieces of tarpaulin. It gave them some light, but didn’t help much with the reek of decay which surrounded them like a cloud of poison gas. “Tony, this place is a shithole. You said this guy is wounded. We should call SHIELD medics.”

“They are on their way”, Tony’s voice said on their comm. “Clint and I will be there in a couple of minutes, start looking.”

They were on it already. The logic said the perps wouldn’t have wanted to carry their load far; it should mean that the other Tony was somewhere here, downstairs. But on the other hand, maybe they had been smart and transported him further, someplace he wouldn’t be able to crawl out and call for help.

“This is a five story building”, Steve was saying, while showing Sam he should start from the next level. “It probably has a basement too. Any additional information would be appreciated.”

“They left him in the lobby near the elevator. Let’s hope the process didn’t include any actual body dumping. There was some guy sitting in the middle of the stairs… No more details, because after that Mr. Bad Cop broke the suspect’s arm and he passed out. Is there lots of people? Maybe we should have asked him to draw us a picture. If he can draw as good as you…”

“Yes, because that guy is so in tune with his artistic side. Did he look like some pansy to you?”

In spite of the horrible situation, Tony let out a spontaneous sounding giggle. “Come on, Steve. You weren’t that bad.”

“I think I found him”, Sam’s voice interrupted them. And for the record, Steve had been almost as bad. Looking that other Steve strutting around annoyed him, because it made him remember how lost he had felt after waking up from the ice. Everybody he had known just a few months (seven decades) ago were dead, and he was stranded without a mission, in some strange future world full of powerful mutants and aliens who could wipe floors with vintage model supersoldiers.

It had been a humbling experience. But thanks to his team, a group of people who was now his new family, it had become better.

“Are you sure”, Tony’s voice asked when Steve run towards the second floor three steps at a time. “The other Steve said he looked completely different.”

“He was right. He is younger and even now more handsome, but he looks like a Stark, alright.”

“Why are you all so mean to me… Clint and I are in the lobby now. Do you need a lift? I can go around and come in through the window. I don’t want to set anything in fire in this death trap.”

“No need.” Steve was now on the spot to assess the situation. “Clint, guide the medics to the second floor. Let’s wait until their examination before trying to move him. I think he has at least a few broken bones and I don’t like the sound of his breathing or that wound in his abdomen. It seems to be deep.”

“Alright. Can I connect the other Steve to our comms now or do you still want to keep him out of the loop?”

“Keep him out. I am not in a mood for any manly hysterics. He can break his knuckles on the walls when we get his friend to the SHIELD base… oh damn!”

“Cap, what is it?”

*

It was… it was the indescribable reek, darkness, the fact that Antonio Stark pissed himself because of pain while somebody carried him here… helping, the guy had said he was helping, but it hurt, hurt so much.

He was lying there, on the mattress the guy put him. The shit trick, the shit trick, the guy had repeated, those bastards didn’t leave you any clothes. One time I got so deep in dept too.

The guy covered him with a smelly blanket and then he let him be. Antonio was relieved, and kind of thankful, but shouldn’t he move? Shouldn’t he be looking for Steve, or at least call for help for fuck’s sake! But every time he tried to lift himself from the mattress the pain pushed him back until he was too tired even to weep. He felt like a butterfly, pinned to the collector’s box. That had been hours ago, maybe a few days, because he hadn’t still died of dehydration, but he was already starting to shake. He wasn’t stupid enough to ask the friendly guy to call the police or the ambulance, but calling Fury…

The guy promised to make a call next time he went outside. Tony rasped out Fury’s number. He wasn’t overly surprised when the guy came back and said the line was not in use. Probably he had just forgotten the whole thing.

“Water, p-please...”

“Got no water, pal”, the guy mumbled, already halfway to his chemical-helped dreamland. “Go to sleep.”

An ambulance, maybe he should have risked it and ask for an ambulance, but his head… No meds, no booze, the headache the tumor raised behind his eyes made thinking almost impossible. And then he started to shake.

He could have explained it to himself he was cold. His wound was still bleeding, maybe he had lost too much blood, he was going to shock. It was that too, but it just wasn’t the whole truth, was it? It had to be at least two days, his head tried to burst through his eyes, and no pain meds to keep the feeling away. But that was only a part of it. There were other things his chemical balance was lacking too, and Steve would have said he deserved this, deserved this pain and humiliation because he had done this to himself. That stupid armor, which he couldn’t operate without a horde of tech support, his body which he had weakened during his adult years with his constant drinking, everything in him was so disgustingly weak, no wonder he was never Fury’s first choice to important missions. No wonder Steve would never…

He was shaking again. God, was he any different from a homeless wino? He was just used to drink his poison from the fancy glasses, not from some paper bagged bottle at a cold street corner.

When the cravings climbed to their peak, when the want of alcohol consumed his body, it could almost overwhelm the agony from his side and chest and head. At those first moments he would have done anything for a sip of any ethanol infused drink. Anything but raise from that mattress, perhaps. Or kill Steve, but otherwise. If a terrorist organization had wanted a custom made missile, Antonio would have asked what color scheme they preferred. Yes.

He had no idea how long he had been lying there. Maybe it was already time for hallucinations, which were this time the nicest part of his withdrawal symptoms, they made him imagine Steve calling his name.

“Antonio... Antonio Stark. Don’t try to move...”

No worry about that. Then those damn shakes started again and maybe he could have seen how worry oozed out of Steve, if he had been able to keep his eyes open.

It was an enormous task to raise his hand. Probably there wasn’t even anything, no Steve, but why not to try. What was the worst what could happen, right? He reached with his fingers, and for his confused delight, he felt something touching his skin. Something warm, a warm cheek, his hand was on Steve’s face and then Steve’s massive paw surrounded his hand.

“Yes, Antonio. What is it?”

Lift me, he wanted to say. Lift me like I would be your little princess, I don’t care, I am beyond any dignity, my chest hurts, my stomach, my head, everything, lift me, carry me away from here, carry my away from this agony.

Steve seemed to understand. He came closer, Antonio could feel the moist of his breath on his skin. The warmth, which his weird super metabolism produced, radiated from him as if he was a star, and he really was, a liquid sun, for planet Antonio to circle and taste…

Oh god, Steve will be so pissed off at him! But he couldn’t help himself, he was already pushing his lips against that radiating cheek, looking for a mouth, a new born puppy searching for his mother’s tit. Steve pushed his forehead against his to keep him still.

“One word to you, Stark. A toothbrush.”

He liked this new Steve. He liked him. Smiling at him and treating him with such a kindness. Without his finery, beaten up, covered with piss and vomit he was precious. If he had known, he would have let Steve see how he puked into a toilet bowl after his chemo sessions.

*

It was not Triskelion, but it was certainly a military base. Even the medical staff carried uniforms. Usually that would have put Steve at ease, but now he felt only trapped. He couldn’t stay still, so he raised up to walk a tight circle in front of the plastic chairs. Three of them were occupied. The other Steve, the other Tony and Barton were also waiting to hear some news about Antonio, but the door, through which the nurse person had vanished, reminded closed. It made almost tears raise into his eyes and he squeezed his fists tighter to get that water withdraw back under his lids.

There was a smudge on the plasterboard. He had lost it momentarily when the doctor lady listed all Tony’s injuries. He should have hit that Anderson bastard so much harder!

The other Tony was staring at him, a nervous twist in the corner of this lips. “Maybe he really hates that wall”, he whispered to Barton, who nodded, mock serious.

“Maybe he knows something we don’t. It could be a Russian wall, ready to betray us.”

The other Steve hushed them. God, he wouldn’t hope his Barton’s faith even to his worst enemy, to lose his family like that was down right horrible, but why didn’t the archer just shut up! He really didn’t understand how anybody could be that dishonorable… like those damn Russians. It had been so strange. Before he had gotten into the ice, the Russians had been their trusted allies. Now they were not. Their Romanoff had despised all that was American, accusing them for her nation’s demise.

Tony cleared his throat. “SteveToo, there is something I want to...”

He halted his circle. The other Steve was looking at his comrade, his eyebrows tight. “Tony, maybe now is not a good moment.”

“Now… later. You were there, Steve. You saw he was sweaty and convulsing. I just want to know if Antonio is an alcoholic, and if he is, what the big fellow over here had done about it. I mean, it was partly your credit that I sobered up… It was such a huge support to me, and I don’t want...”

“Tony, he probably doesn’t even understand what you mean.”

The other Steve sounded tired. Or fed up. “Did you understand what Tony is saying here? He is asking does Antonio drink lots of booze? Like every day, perhaps?”

Maybe he did, now that Steve thought about it. He had never seen Antonio home or in the meeting without a glass in his hand. But that was the way the men of his breeding behaved. Aperitifs before dinner. Fancy wines with food. Some cognac afterwards. Whiskey or brandy and a good cigar...

“That is not sophistication”, Tony interrupted his explanations. “That is a sickness... Never mind. It has been almost two days. Yes, his withdrawal symptoms would have started for real. His pulse was all over the place and he was hardly lucid. Even without his other injuries… He was going cold turkey. I just want to know how could you let it go this far? So bad? Did you even try to do anything?”

“Tony, now is really not the time...”

There was the wall and still lots of white, unblemished surface to break under his fist. For some reason, he didn’t hit anything, just opened his mouth and stated them the facts. Maybe it was because he didn’t like the way this other Tony was talking about Antonio. Even if Antonio was everything that had been said, he still thought it was unfair.

“He has a brain tumor.”

That earned him silence and blank faces. Even Barton kept his stupid jokes behind his teeth.

“If he indulges himself and prances like a poof, what about it. It is nonoperational. He is in a constant pain. He should do anything he wishes with the short time he has left.”

“That is… I am sorry to hear that”, the other Steve said. Always so damn decent. “I wonder if there is a universe somewhere in which all Tony Stark’s major organs work fine… I am going to check the nurse. If she had some news how the operation is going. Do you want something from the canteen?”

“How about...”

“No, Clint.”

“Hey, unfair! I didn’t even have time to say anything!”

“SteveToo? Tony?”

He shook his head. The other Steve left, shadowed by Barton, who tried to make him guess which snacks he had preferred. He was in the waiting room together with Tony, who was assessing him with a calculating look. The man had no armor on, just a business suit and those prancing orange hued glasses he probably didn’t need. Even he had heard of contact lenses and laser surgeries.

“Your Tony kissed our Steve.”

He was very careful not to change the rhythm of his steps. Only his shoulders tensed, shivers going down his spine. He hadn’t forgotten those gay executions Barton had mentioned. The archer’s gleeful tone had been something he had witnessed only while dealing with the villains who had serious mental issues.

“So what? As you said, Antonio was out of his damn mind. He probably dreamed about his fancy parties and his arms full of some dame.”

“I don’t think so. Steve doesn’t feel anything like a dame, and… Maybe when we get Antonio stabilized we need a little chat with him.”

And that didn’t sound ominous at all. He smiled stiffly and nodded, still pretending he had no idea what was implied. “You think there will be consequences?”

The other Tony chuckled. And he had thought that Barton fellow was the only sadistic bastard of this group. “Oh yeah”, Iron Dickhead said, licking his lower lip. “It really seems you guys have some fight ahead. If it is hard or not, I think that depends solely on you, Captain.”

Was he giving Steve a way out? To him but not Antonio, the wording didn’t leave much room for guesswork. Now was the time to abandon that drunkard poof to his fate, the other Tony was saying, there was no way around this, the whole group had witnessed Antonio’s mishap. That was it, wasn’t it? No loyalty among soldiers… But no, maybe he shouldn’t blame them. If he had been in their position, would he had been more lenient? He had taken a vow to defend their society and laws...

No fucking way he would have done this! He was not a damn sheep, there had always been laws which were full of crap. This was not right. Antonio hadn’t harmed anybody. How dare they treat him the same like a common murderer?

How dare they! Now the only question remained, what was he going to do about it.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been three days. Director Fury of SHIELD had the team’s reports on his tablet. That included the on-going parallel universe incident as the set was called. Doctor Richards hadn’t still been successful in his ways to sent their surprise guest back to their own universe. And then there had come the team’s re-mach with Count Nefaria to consider. The Avengers had gotten their asses kicked, and Fury and Steve had been cooped up in Fury’s office to evaluate the situation. Now Director had finally time to re-read the medicals of Antonio Stark he had gotten in the morning, and take some action according to the results.

“His recovering is happening as expected. Overall, his operation went well. Damage was lesser than it seemed… except his tumor, of course. Have you gone through this with Captain Guard Dog there? The nurses report he hardly takes time to eat. If they let him, he would prefer to piss into the bottle instead of using the bathroom.”

Steve had to admit that would be the case. He hadn’t had much time to think his counterpart for the last few days, getting pummeled by the superpowered megalomaniacs did that to your hospitality. “I don’t think he is faring any worse than I would be if it were our Tony in that bed.”

“And this other matter our Tony mentions? If it is true, I don’t want any high school drama. Again”, Fury added, giving him a meaningful stare from his only eye.

Tony seemed to be sure their visitors were romantically linked or at least Antonio was pining hard after his Captain. Antonio had indeed felt quite amorous to Steve, but he being a Stark, it could be only common prurience talking and nothing to do with actual feelings.

“They say raising kids goes easier the second time, sir. I think you have enough experience to manage this horrid ordeal.”

“Don’t go sassy with me, Captain… Antonio Stark should be stable. Get his captain out of that room for a while, will you? Drag him at least into the shower, the staff is starting to complain. Then you could take him to the movies or maybe a run. Just get his ass up from that chair before he starts to mold.”

This time their usual snarking was interrupted by an official sounding call in Fury’s earpiece.

“Yes, Agent Willard. What is it?”

Steve observed as Fury’s brow climbed on his forehead until it almost reached the hairline.

“What the hell do you mean he disappeared? The room should be monitored by… yes, I know they were not classified hostile, they could move from the room, but they are not allowed to beat up our agents… it wasn’t, yes, why was that... No, I don’t care of any staff shortage, if you are in the monitor duty, you took a tablet to the bathroom all I know… No, Agent, you should have noticed, it’s kind of your job, isn’t it? The guards… you are shitting me, aren’t you? No! How many times I have to say this: No unauthorized goings or comings, no matter if the guy is dressed up as our flag… Yes, guess what, I don’t care your great grandfather was in Normandy with Captain America, it is better that any of you morons don’t mention Normandy to me ever again.”

Fury ripped the piece from his ear. He probably didn’t want to say anything so unsavory that HR-department was forced to send him an angry e-mail.

“Your date is gone, Captain, and it seems he took Stark with him. I mean the other Stark… Shit, I am starting to sound like those idiots. They found Barton. He is still unconscious. Have you heard about lunch breaks? Or coffee breaks? It seem the guy in the monitor duty has this part-time job as his mother’s therapist and priest and confidant, he had been on the phone most of the day… Fuck! He didn’t even notice when Rogers clocked Barton and stuffed him into Stark’s bed.”

“Yes, I too escaped Hydra dungeon by faking a stomach ache.”

That made Fury halt his angry tirade. He turned back to Steve looking honestly intrigued. “Really?”

“No”, Steve snorted. “And could you stop that huffing and puffing? Sir. This was baby-sitting job for your rookies, and it turned out to be very educational, but as you stated yourself they are not our prisoners but guests. Ambassadors as you put it, able to come and go as they please... Hopefully, just not mangling our colleagues in process. Clint is alright?”

“Yes, yes… Now shut up, Captain. Let’s check those recordings and...”

It was definitely And. On the tablet, there was Clint, standing at the doorway. His usual bad jokes, and…

“Whoa! That had to hurt!” Fury said aloud when the shield knocked Clint first from his feet, then Captain finished the treat by clocking him. The archer collapsed on the floor his face bloody, just a few seconds after he had joked that Captain should kiss Stark and earn him twenty bucks.

“What everloving… Is that guy for real? That was the worst case of gaypanic I have seen for ages. But why did they run? Did he get scared we would punish them for pummeling that idiot? What the hell kind of universe are they from?”

Steve didn’t know. He had had no time to find out the details, or if he was totally honest, no interest to talk with his other self. Obviously, that had been a mistake.

*

“Tony”, Steve was saying. “Tony, try to open your eyes. We are there. We are almost home.”

That was putting it generously. Escaping the SHIELD base had been easy, he had just put Antonio in the wheelchair which had been standing in the corner of their room, waiting Antonio to recover enough to be moved. It hurt Antonio to sit up, but they had managed, and Steve had pushed him first out of the building and then into their transport, the whole time waiting alarms starting to blast and military dressed people pointing their guns at them.

Nothing much had happened. The guard had greeted him, said he was glad that Mr. Stark seemed to be recovering. He mentioned something about the weather and Steve answered, explaining about fresh air and how that had always helped his own recovery, but it seemed he didn’t need to bother. A black SUV drove in and stopped outside the white and red bar, and the guard had to focus on the newcomer, so Steve had continued walking when the bar was lifted for the car. He had started to realize how bad their situation was, because that was it, literally the end of the road. Barton’s leering and his stupid jokes, reminding their bending trial had been just a trigger. They were trapped in this strange universe were the homosexual acts led the perpetrators to the gallows, and Antonio…

He couldn’t blame Tony who had just been himself. When Tony had been more lucid after his operation, Steve had tried to explain their situation and it seemed Tony had understood. The SHIELD putting them into the cell would have make more sense to Steve, but Fury of this universe probably deemed them helpless. And he were so fucking right. They had no means of transportation. No weapons, no communications, backup or even a proper plan. If he had been bendy enough, he would have kicked himself in the ass. He had made his quiet reconnaissances for a few days now, waiting for the right opportunity, but Barton and his ghoulish jokes had made him lose it.

Who was he kidding? He could be a dumb soldier boy from the by-gone era, but even he realized that those nanoparticles and locators could be used to find them as easily as they had found Antonio and the parts of his armor. In this universe, there was no place for them to hide.

“Why don’t you... call us taxi, darling. If you insist... going out... with me...”

No taxi, but maybe something. Tony was again so out of it, but he had a right idea. The black SUV which had been waiting outside the bar was coming back. Fortunately, they were already out of the seeing range from the gates, and Steve made an impromptu decision, lifted his hand. The car stopped and a man in civilian clothes looked at him with curious delight. He seemed to be a runner of some kind.

“Sorry son”, Steve said just before he clocked the guy. He tied him with his own button down and belt and stuffed him into the trunk. Then he lifted Tony on the back seat and secured him with the seat belts.

“Darling… don’t feel so good… Can we t-take… a rain c-check, please? Could we just g-go home?”

Oh Antonio. This time Steve didn’t try to hold back his tears, when he stepped in the car and started pushing the address into the GPS device (which was not a useless and annoying device with too many buttons like so many other things in this era, but an ingenious talking map.) To go home, that was a good plan. The only plan, actually. Too bad it was impossible to carry out. But maybe…

“Alright, Tony. You just hold on a little bit longer. For me, alright?”

“Alright… for you, d-darling. Anything...”

It took almost two hours. The runner’s jacket had a logo. Every person they encountered would remember that black and yellow shape, not his face. Without his iconic helmet and shield he was just an ordinary blond beach boy jock as Antonio used to call him. Nobody looked at him twice when they stopped at the gas station, bought some water bottles with the money he had taken from Barton’s wallet. Antonio ate a bit chocolate too. That at least was a good sign.

*

“Agent Tailor here. The subject bought drinks and snacks and is now heading back to his car.”

“Copy that, Agent Taylor. The subject’s vehicle is continuing their designated trail, as expected according the coordinates of their GPS device.”

The Avengers Quinjet was hovering over the said coordinates, in its stealth mode. Natasha copied the both reports and turned to pass them to her team leader.

“SteveToo and Antonio are still coming this way. Estimated time of arrival one hour and seventeen minutes.”

“Thanks, Nat. Did they mentioned anything about the hostage?”

“It is the same. In the trunk, the equipment are picking up faint noises, like somebody was kicking the trunk cover.”

“Alright”, Steve sighed. “Director is still insisting we do not engage. I would like to say it is because of the hostage, but...”

“But it is because of famous Nicholas Fury paranoia”, Janet continued, shaking her head. “Yes, we know.”

“Maybe you are not totally objective in this”, Nat said. “I got an impression you were getting along quite well before he showed you his interrogation techniques. Just think for a moment that Fury has something here. It could be that our visitors lied. Maybe they coming here wasn’t an accident at all and SteveToo’s worried act was just like that, an act. What better way to make them seem harmless than to play a part of the helpless victim.”

“What are you suggesting Nat? That they are secretly planning inter universal terrorist strike? That this was an infiltration attempt failure?”

“That is a valid option. If they have something planned ahead, and that Tony is even half as smart as ours, he can make some real damage when he has Captain’s strategic skills and muscle to back him up. And if their arrival was not an accident… Who knows what resources they have moved over here beforehand?”

“There is that”, Steve admitted. “If there is no shady purpose, why of all the addresses in the City they chose 890 Fifth Avenue?”

That was an address better know as the Avengers mansion. It was empty now, had been abandoned for years after their team relocated itself into Stark Tower.

“Wrong info? SteveToo already saw that we live elsewhere. Maybe some kind of symbolic strike?”

“Alright, nice theories, but my gut is still telling me that this is all some kind of huge misunderstanding”, Janet said with a determined wrinkle forming over her nose. “What do you think Sam? You got any feelings about them?”

Sam Wilson had a light emphatic ability which enabled him to connect with the bird life. For some reason, Janet had always took that as an ability be more intuitive than average people.

“Well, I don’t know”, Sam hesitated. “All that sound plausible, but...”

“But what?” Steve asked, when the silence seemed to linger. He had also noticed the fleeing looks Sam were giving towards Clint, who had observed their powwow exceptionally quiet.

“I just though… maybe there is a bit more than that. Well look, Clint here...”

He didn’t get further before he was interrupted by their team leader who was now wearing his Captain Face; grim, determined lips and cold, squinted eyes. “Clint, what have you done now?”

“As Sam said, it is probably nothing”, Barton hurried to explain. “I just… I kind of let SteveToo to understand that being gay is illegal and could lead to execution… But he can’t be moronic enough to really believe that, can he? I mean, this is America, not some...”

“Goddammit Clint!”

Steve had hit his fist on the bench so strongly he made metal tent.

“Moronic enough?” he asked, stepping in front of Clint, who suddenly tried to push himself inside the wall. “If things I care about, people I love are in danger, I am not moronic, I am damn lethal and resourceful, and I will fight without any mercy until my opponents are dust or I myself fall on the ground, dead as a door nail. You should know that, and you idiot just had to arrange so we have no idea if they are perpetrators or victims in this situation.”

First Count Nefaria fiasco and now this. If they were a corporation, one could say their quarter report sucked.

“ _Bardak_ ”, Nat mumbled and turned to stare at the meters of the jet, right after making an angry scowl at her archer friend. Nobody had anything more to say to that. What a mess.

*

It was already late when they got home.

Steve checked again that the guy in the trunk was still breathing. Then he helped the gate to open with his shield and as usual, the ordinary metal bent and broke under his ministrations. Something was wrong, though. Let’s call it instinct, he scanned the perimeter with his gaze but didn’t see anything unusual. No movement, nobody came to ask what the hell he was doing. Only that… There was something mildly off about the sky behind those trees, but now was not the time to investigate it any further.

This universe had the Stark mansion, that was right, but the place seemed abandoned. The windows were dark. They were not covered with panels and tarpaulins, this was too good neighborhood for that, and after he had broken the lock in the door, he saw the place was far from the crack house the team had found Antonio. It was clearly uninhabited but somebody looked after it, and he wondered if he had launched some of those fancy electronic alarms with his burglary.

“S-Steve?”

“Nothing, Tony. I am just thinking… going to escort you to your room now. Remember? Like I used to do. Maybe we could have a drink? Talk a little? You can tell me what science thingies you have imagined during the day or all the important people you have met. You act for me the most pompous and moronic ones, and we can laugh at that.”

“L-like that. Y-yes. B-but m-maybe only water… water is good…”

“Alright, Tony. We can agree on that. Maybe you shouldn’t have a drink with your meds.”

“Y-yes. I am b-being sensible, a-am I? I w-want to be…”

Steve didn’t get to know what else Tony wanted to be. Antonio was out again and missed wholly those pompous stairs, Steve carrying his precious load to the second floor feeling like Clark Gable. Now he just had to find a room which had some furniture left. That proved to be an easy task. Like downstairs, the rooms were lightly dusty but otherwise they had most of the furniture intact. He chose one with a huge four poster bed because it still had its mattress under the dust cover, and because it looked like Tony, the room seemed girlish in a same way as Tony’s silken dressing gowns. (He couldn’t imagine to wear one himself, but they looked so good on Tony.)

“Alright, Tony. You rest a bit. I look around.”

The place reminded him so much about Antonio’s fancy mansion, but on the other hand it wasn’t the same at all. This was surely a place which hosted strangers, and there were marks of them all around, little things people sometimes left behind when they moved away. The elevators didn’t work so he used the stairs. The upstairs rooms were soon browsed and he didn’t wait much about the search of the other living quarters either, but there had been a sturdy metal door which lead to the upper floor. He left it for now and descended to the sub levels from where he found the training faculties. Was this the place the Avengers had lived and left to theirs missions? It seemed likely.

Then there was a workshop Steve gave more consideration. Some tools were still in place, like waiting for Stark to come and start tinkering with his toys. Why did he know it was this other Tony’s place? Well, there was a vintage pinup calendar on the wall, which presented Captain America in twelve different battle scenes. It looked like that kind of inside joke the group could appreciate, it was no way the other Steve would display things like that in his own place. He tried to imagine his Antonio grease smudges all over his hands and face, but that was s silly idea. Antonio was so clean and shiny. Not like that other Tony, who seemed not to be afraid to get his hands dirty.

The thought made him feel angry and betrayed. They were strangers, but he had already liked them a little, even that cunt Romanoff… No, probably not her, but the others. They had seemed to be so no-nonsense about his and Antonio’s situation that Steve had thought they would really make it back home. And instead…

Back to the search, he ordered himself. He didn’t found anything overly useful, though. There was an empty swimming pool, and lots of gym equipment. He returned to the shop and started to search it more diligently while desperation clawed right under his schooled calm exterior.

Then there was something. Just behind the shelves which were rammed full of old and smelly cardboard boxes. What was that? A hidden door?

*

“If it was me, I would be searching the mansion right now”, Steve was saying. “Are you sure there is nothing in our old stuff that the other Steve can find and use to harm us?”

“Absolutely sure”, Tony nodded. “We moved all the tech and weapons to my workshop in Stark Tower or the SHIELD armory. There is nothing but surplus furniture and housewares. And I checked the alarms twice. There is no breach before Mr. Battling Ram broke our gate and front door. If they have moved something from their universe to ours, it is not in the mansion. It is perfectly safe.”

“That is good. Then we can… Tony, what is it?”

The billionaire genius had kept his visor up, so Steve saw how his features sank, his big brown eyes got a vacant look. Tony seemed to be deep in thought, and more than a tad worried.

“Except...” he said slowly. “I just remembered something. There is this big walk-in safe in my old workshop, my father used to keep there his prototypes and plans. The door is enough to withhold a regular burglary, but Steve and his shield and his mighty muscles… if he really wants in, all he had to do is smash the concrete around the door, it is not a bank vault.”

If that little speech was not food for premonition, Steve didn’t know what would be. “Tony. To to point. What is in there? Did you tinker with some vintage death ray and just forgot it there?”

“No, of course not! I would never forget a vintage death ray, they are so cool! You remember, when you woke from ice, how you felt a little lost and we tried to cheer you up by finding all kind of things from the 40s?”

How could he forget, Steve thought. He had sat on his bed for hours, bawling his eyes out, staring at the covers of the LPs his team had bought for him. Andrews Sisters, Glenn Miller, Duke Ellington... But those things in Tony’s safe room were not signed copies of all Steve’s favorite books, were they?

“No”, Tony admitted quietly. “I thought… you were the supersoldier of our nation, and I thought that you would maybe like to… but then you said you never wanted to shoot people again… Yeah, Steve. It is weapons. Old weapons. Lots of them. From handguns to… Steve, if he finds it, there is enough stuff in there that he can walk out from the mansion as one man army.”

“Isn’t that swell”, Steve sighed. “Alright, people. Listen up. A chance of plans...”

*

Antonio was awake. He seemed lucid, but Steve couldn’t be sure. He reached and touched Antonio’s cheek and found out how cold it was. Long and delicate fingers raised to cover his paw as Antonio’s lids fluttered. “Hey. Are you… you are here?”

He felt the faint nod, which almost raised tears into his eyes again. But he couldn’t cry now, not in front of Antonio. Now if ever was the time to be hard.

“Tony, do you remember what we talked about? About those things Barton told me?”

Antonio nodded again. His lips moved, but the sound coming from his mouth was so tiny, Steve had to bend to listen, and he didn’t like what he heard. Not at all. That was Antonio all reasonable. Saying he would die anyway. Because of tumor. That Steve should go back and say… something. Lie. He was such a guy. Nobody would believe Captain America was a pansy, Tony was ready to take all the blame. Steve had been loyal to his teammate, there was no reason they wouldn’t be lenient because of that. Steve was from another world. Didn’t know their customs.

That was Stark’s silver tongue at its best. Those hoarse, whispered reassurances that it would be alright, if Steve just left Tony here. Dying alone when he had just found him. What a silly suggestion.

“B-but… this all… because of me… Y-you told me… watch t-those h-hands...”

“Yes, I told you. That was stupid of me, and this is not because of you. Never because of you, it is because of them. Those Avengers. This shithole universe.” His tone had gotten so much venom he was suffocating from it. “Tony, I thought we got more time, to plan something out, but things got really bad, really quickly. I saw no other choice, but… I am sorry, Tony. You are so fine. I am sorry I wasn’t smarter and stronger and couldn’t get us out of this mess.”

“Hush, d-darling. It is a-alright… You… b-brought f-friends…?”

“Yes. I found them from downstairs. It is not much, but I...”

“Y-yes.” Tony’s smile, it was so tired, like a ghost of his original smirk. “Y-you will m-make 4th of July for little o-old me? I am m-mighty f-flattered darling, I r-really am, but… shouldn’t you c-consider...”

Again this. No Tony, he would not consider surrendering to a bunch of complete a-holes, who were just waiting Tony to get better that he wouldn’t raise pity in judges or public watching his trial. There was no hiding. No matter where Steve would go, they could track him with those nanoparticles. And what good would that do for him when Tony was gone.

“I a-always knew, Rogers. U-under that... hard e-exterior t-there is a... b-big fluffy romantic. T-too bad… o-our s-story i-is R-Romeo and J-Juliet k-kind...”

And under all that cynical smartassness… but he had seen it before. All the time when he was alone with Tony, his patient explanations, his admiring looks when he thought Steve didn’t notice. His sassy non-flirting, the sharp flashes of teeth which melted into soft and melancholic smiles when he turned them towards Steve.

Tony was still looking at him like asking can I. Still asking, even if he had a permission to take, had always been, neither of them hadn’t just known about it. Steve pushed his lips gently on Tony’s chapped ones. For their first and last kiss it was not bad. It would have been fine, if Steve had been able to stop thinking… his fingers on Tony’s neck, just a brief squeeze, or maybe a better grip and a fast twist. Tony wouldn’t be able to feel a thing.

He buried his face against Tony’s chest and then he cried, cried like a dame in front of a man, who he had been so long in love with, even if he had actively tried to purify those thoughts from his mind.

“I can’t, Tony. I am sorry. I know I should, but I can’t… I can’t...”

He felt Tony’s fingers in his hair, his reassuring, haltering whispers telling him how it was alright. He didn’t have to do anything, just leave Tony a little something that he could use to return their generous hospitality, if not with a whole gift basket, at least one pineapple with some explosive vitamin C.

“Tony, do you know...”

Tony was a weapon manufacturer. Of course he knew how a hand grenade worked.

*

There was no time to plan much. At the same time when Tony’s computer told them somebody had opened the eastern side door, the jet’s equipments monitoring their surroundings detected a heat signature from that same place, and it was moving fast.

Tony stood up, pushing his visor down. “I can go and...”

“No, Tony. No opening the hatch door. All of you, brace yourself.”

“Why?” Tony was able to ask before an explosion rocked the jet. “What… what the hell was that?”

“That, my friends, was a bulls-eye hit from an original bazooka”, Stave said calmly. “Nat, inform Fury we need neighborhood cleared asap. This is not going to went down peacefully.”

“How did he know we are here? Is he a mutant or something? Telescopic sight?”

“I guess nothing so dramatic, Sam. Last time this happened, it was a bird. It is hard to miss a bird sitting in the air... Never mind. Nat, talk to me. Any damage?”

“Cosmetic… we are a little better armored than an average vintage tank.”

As if they had been only waiting Nat’s sure words, meters started blinking on the left corner of the dashboard.

“No, you must be kidding me”, Nat sighed. “What is he, Luke Skywalker? It seems that the part of the blast damaged the cooling system of our motor. The backup will hold it stable some ten minutes, but then I have to get her down or we will go Death Star.”

Steve took his shield and stood up, his gloved hand over the door opening mechanism, ready to engage. “For the record, I understood both of those pop-culture references… alright people. We do as we planned. Janet, do not engage SteveToo in any means. Your mission is to find Antonio. Our only chance to end this quickly and cleanly is that he talks some sense to that big oaf. Let’s hope he is still alive.”

“What do you mean?” Clint said, whitening under his mask. “The doctors said he was recovering fine. It can’t be that...”

“I didn’t mean his medical condition. In this same situation, I would have killed our Tony, fast and painless.”

“What?” Clint whispered, his voice full of disbelieve. “You are joking, Cap? Alright, I get it, this is payback, isn’t it?”

“Not at all”, Steve said calmly. “Let’s hope he is more sappy guy than me, those really tough ones usually are.”

“Steve”, Tony started, and even his robotic voice succeeded to sound disturbed. “I would never… You can’t mean...”

“That’s mercy. You don’t leave your comrade in arms behind, when there is no chance to escape torture and death. Never fear Tony, your death would have been avenged, I would have come out here and done what he is planning now, taking as many of my enemies with me as possible.” Then there was time to no more explanations, Steve hit the witch and Tony grabbed Clint. They were the first ones out, Iron Man covering the archer and pulling the enemy fire, Janet was next and then Sam who rushed through the hole like a leak bird of pray. Steve had no wings or way to fly, but it was only some ten yards, he didn’t even need to put his shield first. He made a superhero landing, covering himself with the shield when his enhanced hearing picked up a tell-tale hissing sound of the burning fuse.

“Frag coming from ten o’clock!” Steve stated to his comm. Everybody not protected with a high-tech armor took cover.

*

_D_ _on’t engage_ _S_ _teve_ _T_ _oo_ , Steve had said when Janet had suggested the use of Pym particles. _He knows to expe_ _c_ _t that_ _from you_ _._ _He knows you are the most dangerous one of us, one wisp_ _of_ _your magic_ _dust,_ _Tinker Bell,_ _and he lose_ _s_ _._ _You will never get close enough before h_ _e kill_ _s_ _you._

Would the other Steve have done that? Killed her? Really? He could be rough, bordering sadistic, as Janet had seen when they interrogated the goon who had taken Antonio. The thought made her shiver as she remembered their team leader’s other words.

At least Antonio was alive as she noticed when her search paid dividends. It was weird to fly to her old room, see somebody else lying in her old bed. But if Antonio was Goldilocks in this story, what it made her, a bear probably. Of course Antonio was alive. Their Steve had been just… SteveToo was him and he would never… wouldn’t he?

Sometimes she thought she didn’t know Steve at all. He could be so modern and ordinary and nice at one moment, and then…

Then there was Steve who could say things like: I-would-have-killed-my-best-friend-and-then-butchered-all-the-evil-men.

She had thought Antonio was sleeping, he was so still, but his eyes were open and looking at her when she took his right side beside the bed.

“W-wasp?” he rasped. “H-ha… our Janet would b-be... so pissed off... you w-whitewashing h-her…”

She was starting to explain. How this all was just one big understanding, how she was sorry they had been busy, that even if Antonio had never officially met her, he should listen. She was indeed going to say all those right things, but then he noticed what Antonio was squeezing in his left hand. A grenade. He had already pulled its pin out and pushed now his hand against his chest.

“Antonio, no!” Janet shouted. The last glimpse for Janet to those tired, sad eyes, and then Antonio raised his fingers from the safety lever.

*

The problem of their plan was that Barton should have been able to make himself invisible. Not just to execute the act but also because seeing him seemed to make SteveToo even more determinant and murderous, if that was humanly possible. Only thing on their side was that Clint knew the perimeter better. It was still dangerous game. Tony tried to keep Captain busy with his repulsor blasts, but it proved to be unbelievable difficult to hit a target when you couldn’t harm him in any serious way. A full blast would burn SteveToo’s face away or broke his spine under his protection gear, so Tony was being careful and that was like trying to play Jenga your better hand tied on your back. He had made SteveToo cover repeatedly, so maybe something was gained. But Clint hadn’t yet been able to find a good position to shoot his tranquilizing arrow.

“He is not Captain America! He is fucking Punisher!”

“No whining on the comm”, came Nat’s curt reply. One could guess she was still mad at her friend.

SteveToo fired again and then moved like a fox in the bushes. The mansion grounds were quite a maze, lots of trees and statues and other things which made excellent covers, but it was still starting to be ridiculous.

Ominous silence. And then again a tell-tale hiss of the fuse.

“Incoming, three o’clock. Hawkeye, he is behind the summerhouse.”

“Copy, Cap. I got it now.”

A new blast from the grenade made the air rattle in their ears and smashed another statue. Shards of stone flew in the air, one of them making a bloody graze on Steve’s cheek.

*

When the safety lever was released, there was about three and half seconds before detonator would explode and ignite the charge. Antonio wasn’t going to throw the thing at her. No, he had pushed it against his own chest and while the sight broke Janet’s heart, her sting was already hitting his hand, making Antonio drop the grenade. At the same time it was infused by Pym particles and when the thing finally detonated, the explosion was so tiny it made less harm than a child’s firecracker. Even Antonio’s sweats didn’t get burned.

“Antonio, listen. No don’t listen, I know there is no words now to correct this situation and Clint’s idiocy, but if you would just look at this instead.”

Janet had taken out her phone.

“Look, this is us. This is the Avengers in NYC Pride last year, that is from the closing ceremony in Times Square. Do you have those kind of celebrations in your universe?”

There were lots of extravagant costumes or almost no costumes at all. Steve with a striped, multicolored flag painted on his cheek, kissing a guy with brown, longish hair.

“Yes”, Janet said. “I can see you got it. Can you stand? At all? We have to go outside and explain this to your Steve before something worse happens.”

That gained her a tired smirk and some feeble attempts to sit up on the bed. Janet hurried to give her assistance.

“Oh… I… s-should… h-have g-guessed... B-Barton is a p-prick in every u-universe...”

*

“Hawkeye, what are you doing? Laying eggs? Take a shot already.”

Clint moved a few inches, to get a better angle which proved to be a mistake.

“There is no... oh shit, he noticed me.”

Later Clint said he let out a manly grunt, but those who had witnessed the incident remembered it differently. A high-pitched scream shot through the comms, and then Clint was falling from the tree, his both legs pierced by the bullets. Only a few moments, and SteveToo could have ended his life with a single round. Fortunately for Clint, Iron Man was faster and SteveToo had to take cover again. There was still an acute need for distraction, and Steve decided to make it by rushing to the open space between the garden and the main building.

“This is the one you have been waiting for, you big fussy! Let’s go! Let’s dance then!”

If the other Steve heard one word wrong, maybe that was how Steve had planned it. He was no amateur in the psychological warfare, and he was nowadays able to use non-discriminating language while doing it. SteveToo was fending off Iron Man’s blasts like they were just an afterthought, his shield moving fast as a snake’s head while he rushed towards taunting figure in the middle of the opening, and then he was on Steve and they were pummeling each others like there was no tomorrow.

“Back off”, Steve grunted to his comm between the hits. “I will handle this.”

Like his team ever listened to him! Or yes, of course they listened when he was reasonable and made moves in the field, but even a child could see this was not a tactical decision, this was only pride and other stupid emotions. One of his own was badly wounded and it had been his call, it was his duty to put the end to this lunacy.

Fat chance. First came Natasha who was able to make one of her famous rodeo jumps. Before anybody knew it, she was riding on SteveToo’s shoulders and hitting his head with all her considerable skill and power. Those thighs were deadly weapons when they were around your neck, and SteveToo’s breathing started soon to sound funny. He tried but couldn’t swat her away while the Avengers team leader was keeping him busy with his kicks and hits.

“You Russian cunt!”

The name-calling was usually a sign that a person was lacking other, more efficient resources.

“Remember your fucking language! Falcon, you stay with Hawkeye, we got this! Widow, stop that! It is no use! Captain protocol! Now!”

The Widow’s Bite didn’t usually have much effect against enraged supersoldiers, but the protocol Steve had suggested was a dirty trick, an electroshock from Nat’s bracelet got even his full attention when administrated into his ear. No wonder SteveToo howled like a banshee and was momentarily distracted so that Iron Man could finally pull that dangerous shield away.

“Surrender!” Steve ordered, still pummeling his counterpart. “Surrender, you have no weapons or your shield, you don’t want us to hurt you as badly as you deserve!”

That suggestion earned Steve a lucky boot in his nether regions. That was also the moment Antonio Stark staggered out from the front door. He was supported by Janet, or half-carried was maybe more accurate description. Janet might be short in her original form also, but she was no way a powerless and frail insect.

It took some time that Captain Punisher understood what Antonio was saying. He was hyped from the battle, ready to pull them apart with his bare hands, and when he realized who the real perpetrator in this mess was, it was only the combined might of the Avengers which kept him from crawling toward Hawkeye. Clint was still lying on the ground, unable to move and defend himself, screaming in fright like a drama queen he was.

Maybe Fury should hire them out as a comedy group.

“Wasp! Stop taking those damn pictures and come here to help!”


	7. Chapter 7

The family might fight. Its members could disagreed. Still the pack loved and protected each others. It was then too bad he and Antonio were not part of the Avenger family, so when they fought and got bruised, and bones were broken and inconvenient truths were said aloud, they knew there was no love involved. Not even cautious interest anymore.

The Avengers tiptoed around Steve, which was understandable. He had tried to kill them, Romanoff even several times. After a few days they had moved Antonio from the hospital to Stark Tower, so meeting the team could not be avoided. Those meetings were fortunately brief, and most of the time he was in Antonio’s room anyway.

Antonio was starting to be fine, actually. Little tired still, but the wound in his abdomen hadn’t been as deep as they had first thought and his other injuries were healing as expected. He just felt… he missed his fancy drinks, but doctors had said he couldn’t drink while taking the meds and they had then given him more meds that he wouldn’t miss his drinks so much. Or something. Steve didn’t quite understand that whole thing and Antonio didn’t want to talk about it. Of course he didn’t flat refuse Steve’s questions, but the way he dodged them was quite telling.

So Antonio was healing well, the Avengers had found his missing armor parts, it would have been so much easier for all of them if they could just go home. Except they couldn’t, of course. They were still stuck in this universe until Richards and Stark came up with something, and it made it all worse. At home there would be another mission, another catastrophe, and Steve could have tried to forget what had happened. But no. He was here, and Antonio was here, and all in this place made him remember how he had bent over Antonio, who was lying helpless in the four poster bed, lying there in pain and confusion when Steve had kissed him, a hand around his neck, ready to twist or squeeze.

He had almost…

There was no way around it here. Nothing to distract him from his thoughts, so he sneaked to the fridge to get food, sneaked to the room the other Steve had arranged for him, hovered at the door of Antonio’s room, watching the nurse, who was chancing his drip. And Steve was thinking: that bed could be empty, Antonio could be dead. Not because of Barton, who was wise enough to stay elsewhere after the incident. Not because of the other Steve, but because of him. He had almost done that to Antonio.

He started saying that one aloud when he noticed Antonio was awake and able to listen. Of course that didn’t go as expected either. Or maybe it did. When had Antonio been able to take anything seriously?

“What I don’t want, darling, is your self-flagellation. It gets boring after a while, don’t you think? If you want to be disciplined, I will gladly lent you a hand or a whip… your behind would be quite a sight with those glutes rosy-cheeked, don’t you think?”

Yes, Antonio was fine and Steve started to be seriously pissed off at him. Like this was a laughing matter.

“But surely it is, darling. Look at us. This is… oh god, we were such hams.”

Was Antonio talking about their kiss? Steve remembered what Antonio had said about Romeo and Juliet. He was not uncivilized enough not the get a reference. Now Antonio was backing away? Letting Steve to back away? What?

“Why do you always have to do this?” he huffed, frustrated.

“And what is it, darling?”

“This! Why don’t you stay on the truth? You could say things simple, like… When you told me about the soldiers in powdered wigs and silk stockings and that metrothing? Why didn’t you just say you are a poofter?”

This earned him that cautious and somewhat sly look. Was Antonio thinking this was some sort of game?

“A game? Not quite. And that would be like leaving half out of it. I am not exactly like you, darling. I like women too.”

Yes, after his catastrophic relationship attempts with Gail and their Janet Antonio was maybe allowed to say things like that to him. It still made Steve want to hit his fist in the wall. This was exactly what he was talking about. So confusing. If Antonio liked women too why did he then…

“Darling, please. You know me. I am a magpie. If it shines...”

Of course. And this was the final joke of his situation, wasn’t it? When he turned his head he would lose Tony to someone with tits anyway.

“Last time I checked I had no cunt.”

“Thank god. Your dick is so nice, darling. Not that I have seen it, but those big hands...”

Jesus, that smirk. Those lips, those shining eyes… Steve felt himself getting hot. It was a fight not to embarrass himself right there, he was wearing sweats, so protection gear was not intact. But Antonio… he called everybody darling. It wasn’t like Steve was something special. He had to bite his lower lip not to hurl his accusations aloud, because what had Tony promised to him? Yes, exactly nothing. It had all been in his own head.

“Steve…” Antonio said and now he started to sound worried. Maybe he thought like those Avengers that he would be triggered by any worse word. Maybe he would, and what would then happen? Would he break the wall? Break Tony? Start to cry like some dame?

“Give me your hand”, Tony said, touching the back of his hand. “Come on, big guy. Do that to please Uncle Tony.”

And that wasn’t disturbing image at all. He felt how his lips tried to turn into an involuntary smile as Tony continued pulling his hand to himself.

“Ah, so warm”, he sighed, pushing Steve’s palm against his cheek. “Could you kiss me now, darling?”

It took all his concentration that he didn’t pull his hand away as touching a red hot oven.

“Oh, don’t look so horrified. You don’t have to. I just asked if… forget it. I just wonder… Nat, our Nat said I smell of cancer, but she was speaking rhetorically, I think. I wonder, with your enhanced senses… do I smell obnoxious to you?”

“No Tony, you smell fine.”

“Shouldn’t you check it out? Just to make sure?”

That was not Tony’s usual non-flirting, that was a real thing and like a fool he fell for it. He bent down and touched carefully those waiting lips and felt how they yielded beneath him. Tony’s goatee was neat again, maybe the nurse had done that too, but he felt its raspy presence, which was so different than those softer faces of Gail or Janet. So different… so fine. Tony opened his mouth and Steve felt how something wet and careful touched his upper lip. It moved over, and Steve opened up, maybe because of surprise and cautious wonder. What it would be alike to feel Tony inside of him like that, his whole tongue, touching his, roaming inside of his mouth, searching, probing… Steve was never before kissed like that. Janet hadn’t like to kiss him and Gail had kept her lips closed like he himself had done. Maybe he had seen people kissing open mouthed in the movies, and that had felt… odd, to but it mildly. It looked like it couldn’t be pleasant, but it was, how it was!

Some instinct made him suck. It was not a hard decision, it was a gesture every infant mammal managed. Tony let out a whimper, which were getting loader when Steve repeated the gesture. Tony’s hand was not over his anymore. They roamed freely on his back and flanks, Tony moved his head to get a better angle for their kisses, pushed his fingers through his short hair to move his head.

“S-Steve… Oh, Steve… Oh god...”

Tony was still lying on the bed, but Steve wasn’t beside him anymore, not kneeling like some prince waking his Sleeping Beauty. His knees were next to Tony’s hips, he was bent down, supporting himself with his arms not to crush the smaller man under him. Tony’s clever hands were now massaging his thighs, his thumb wiping over his groin like by accident. Steve was uncomfortably hard already, leaking precum to his underwear, his breath shallow and his eyes squeezing shut, when Tony’s fingers were getting bolder. He was touching Steve’s cloth covered member, and soon Steve forget he had been kissing, he could only tremble helplessly on all fours as those fingers were taking a better grip and started moving up and down along his length. Steve was like a spellbound, he couldn’t have moved away from those touches if his life depends on it.

“May I…” Tony was saying, tugging the waist of his sweats to make his meaning clearer, and probably he grunted something unintelligible, which Tony interpret as a yes, because next thing he knew, his hot skin was exposed to the air and Tony’s ministrations. The temperature change felt good for some reason, it almost made him come, but on the other hand, maybe any trigger right now would have leaded to that endgame. He didn’t want to think how dirty he had to be looking, there on the bed, his sweats and underwear halfway down his thighs. Maybe it was a dignity thing, but also because it would be a real bust to come from a blue thought alone when there was so much Tony to feel: his clever hand touching his balls and dick while the other reached his neck, pulling him down to continue those interrupted kisses. It was almost too good, this innocent double penetration, Tony’s probing tongue in his mouth and Steve pushing to the circle of Tony’s fingers, and it made him come almost as soon as it started.

“You are a glorious sight, darling”, Tony was mumbling, petting his hair. “Let it come, let it all out, that’s right, sweetheart, look at you go. You are flushed, darling, do you know how much effort it takes to get a supersoldier all sweaty and trembling. That’s right, fuck my hand, Steve, think how good it would feel if it was my tight, lubed hole, or my mouth, oh darling, the things I could do to you with my tongue, you would like them, I bet you would. That big rod of yours, getting bigger and bigger and all that dreamy desert, for me to taste, for me only, until it is so much my mouth can’t hold it but I can’t just swallow fast enough either...”

“N-no...” he was able to get out. He put his shaking fingers to Tony’s lips, and he seemed to understand, at least he grew quiet. More of those words, and that would certainly be the end of him. Steve shook like a dog in a downpour when his body tried to pump more fluids out of his already empty balls. His arms trembled so badly he let himself collapse beside Tony on the bed. Good it was wide enough, he didn’t want to squeeze Tony beneath him.

“That was… w-why did you speak like that?”

They were still side by side so Steve felt as Tony’s arm tensed. “Isn’t that obvious, darling. You seem to like when I speak.”

There had been no truer words. And Tony’s tone was so light Steve probably had felt something else, it couldn’t be Tony was waiting Steve to clock him after all that. But…

There was always that but, wasn’t there?

At least there was a tent on Tony’s sweats. Precum had made a cloth dark, and thinking it was him who had made that happen, while coming all over Tony’s hand and body, was a heady thought, enough to make him hot and bothered all over again.

“You want me to return the favor?” he asked, his heart pounding. He was already moving his hand, the question had been only common courtesy. Why wouldn’t Tony want to orgasm? But Tony’s next flippant words put the end to his movement as efficiently as somebody had severed his arm.

“Totally unnecessary, darling. It will pass.”

It was like a slap in the face. His refractory period was so short one could say it was almost nonexistent, but that was a sure death sentence to his budding erection. He had not that much experience, but he had thought… Maybe he had thought wrong, and it was no secret now what Janet had been telling to Tony about Steve’s blunders in the sack. No need to be angry with Janet, Tony had seen with his own eyes how hair-triggered he was. If it wasn’t his fist, it was his dick, and both of them seemed to function in a way the others found repugnant.

He muttered something about being sticky and wanting a shower. Then he really had one, after he had put his dirty clothes into the hamper. He knew that those stains would tell anybody what he had been doing, but he felt too drained to care. His enhanced hearing had been picking up signs there would be a guest waiting when he opened the bathroom door. He put on new underwear and sweats and then it was time to face the music. The other Steve was sitting in the armchair like he owned the place (which was actually true), but he didn’t mind that now, only continued dabbing his hair and neck and chest with the towel.

“Have you heard… you should buy flowers and chocolate. Not to run off like a scared little rabbit right after earth shattering sex.”

Had the other Steve heard his moaning and panting? Of course he had, the enhanced fucking hearing. Just as he thought his humiliation wouldn’t go any deeper, and the other Steve, sitting there like begging a fist into that mug face of his. But he couldn’t do even that, could he? The Avengers had let them stay, they were taking care of Tony even if Steve had let them no reason to act so charitably. What if he now went ballistic and they thought it was the last straw? How could he help Tony only by himself?

“What would you know”, he hissed, throwing the towel on the bed. “A perfect hero with your perfect team and perfect family. With your nice, perfect Tony”, he added, unable to wipe bitterness out of his words.

That made the other Steve halt whatever he was about to say.

“Alright”, he continued after a while. “It seems it is my turn to apologize. I always forget… Even if you look the same, we are different persons. You are not me. Who knows, maybe you are the more clear-headed one of us. Wanna tell me what happened?”

The other Steve didn’t sound like he was teasing, but he didn’t want to take a risk. And talking, that was Tony’s forte anyway. He shook his head, happy that the T-shirt he was putting on covered his expressions.

“Does he do things like that often?”

Another shake. Tony really didn’t. He could be a regular acid tongue, but usually only when a person really deserved it. He had never been like that with Steve and that was so strange about it. Why did Tony have to start now?

“Alright”, the other Steve mumbled. “This would need some stronger consideration. Too bad we can’t go out there, find a couple of crooks and beat them up like an average controversial vigilante would do. As an icon of the nation we can’t be seen using human-shaped boxing bags.”

That made his lips almost twist in their own accord. “We could do the roof”, he said and almost spooked himself. Why had he suggested something like that?

“We could”, the other Steve admitted. “And we could still be naughty, I bet alcohol doesn’t have any effect on you as it does not have on me, but do you like to smoke? And I mean tobacco, that other thing is still illegal in our state.”

That didn’t do much to them either, but he had liked the taste and the feeling of something in his lungs. The SHIELD doctors had explained how dangerous those innocent looking little nails actually were to your health, but he was a supersoldier whose body could fend off most illnesses. An occasional fag wouldn’t do them any harm.

“Wonderful”, the other Steve grinned. “Let’s go. I know were Natasha keeps her dash.”

The city was beautiful. All blue skies and rooftops. He let himself lean on the railing, took a cig the other Steve was holding out for him. Those first breaths of smoke almost made him feel… Almost made him hear the voices of his long dead comrades in arms, to descent back to the battlefield. But the war was over, no need to…

He let out a shivering gasp of breath, hoping that the other Steve wouldn’t notice. But when was the last time he had been so lucky?

“It’s funny how tastes or sounds bring back memories, doesn’t it? Not all of them good ones. Sometimes… I was in this cafe downtown when a barista dropped his tray of clean mugs. It was quite a bang and I was covering under the table before Nat was able to say _chetverg_.”

There wasn’t indeed much to say about that.

“I was wondering…” the other Steve mused. “There is this clear difference between us. Doctor Freud in his books is always so adamant it has to be about the family, but couldn’t it be just circumstances.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, but I am not known to be one of the great minds… what do you think?”

“Let’s start with the family then. What was yours alike?”

“I don’t know… regular, I think. Father, mother… I have… had a little brother, but… you know...”

After he had came out of ice, Fury had taken him to cemetery, to his parent’s graves. His brother was dead too, he had a niece who was older than him and who had not idea who he was as a person. There wasn’t anything left from his world except the flag, and Fury had acted like a greedy little boy having a surprise bag of candy. He had gorged until the bag was empty and then he had wanted some more, the SHIELD had thrown Steve into a mission after mission, and somehow every one of them seemed to be worse than the previous. It was like he was in some science experiment and a wacky doctor was testing how much he could take before he cracked. Mad cannibal supersoldiers eating each others in the abandoned Russian military base? Alright, you completed that, so how about an alien hive-minded army of robots who is going to kill all organic life on Earth and suck the planet’s core dry?

“Well”, the other Steve said, taking a long pull from his cig. “I can’t know about that… It took the SHIELD and Fury almost eight months before they even started to think I could be let to the field. There were psych evals which lasted for days, and after those I was diagnosed with PTSD and depression. Tony invented some pump thing which they needed to regulate my massive doses of antidepressants. I am alright now, but just thinking about it… that was a drag. Then when I was finally able to pull my head out of my ass, it was weeks after weeks videos and books and lectures and practices how to live in the modern society. Not just technical stuff, but… You know.”

He knew. All those things that he lacked. “Was that when you started painting?

The other Steve looked at him through the smoke his eyes squinted. Maybe it was indeed because of smoke but probably not.

“I have always painted. I was a sickly child, asthma and other lung problems. There wasn’t much else to do than my books and drawing. Most of the time we couldn’t afford oils, though. There was only my ma and I. My father died before I was born.”

Another calculating look from those eyes as daring Steve to say something more. Then the other Steve huffed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry, old habit. I can say that here and now… and most people don’t mind, don’t even understand. But you know that a dead father is just a euphemism for a good Catholic girl to be knocked up without any prospect of marriage.”

“I am sorry”, Steve said, because he really was. That was one thing he didn’t miss from the past, those nasty, waggling tongues of people who wouldn’t mind their own business. “That must have been rough.”

“Yes, it was that also… but fortunately my mam was such a lady, and I had a friend. A real shining knight. Bucky.”

Bucky… James Buchanan Barnes. Could he be the same here? Still alive?

“Yes. We thought he died at war, but as the fate wanted it...”

A shrug again.

“My Bucky”, he started. “He… when they thought I was dead, Bucky and my fiancee Gail, they found each others. They have been married over seven decades now.”

And that hadn’t felt bad at all. Hadn’t felt like he had been left out. No sir. A roomful of smashed furniture in Antonio’s mansion could tell a different story, but nobody had asked them.

“You got a fiancee... How did that work for you?”

Steve wasn’t going to dignify that with a proper response. The other Steve took that as an attitude which it actually was, and retorted in kind:

“Don’t think I don’t know anything just because I have been acting nancy longer time than you have. I still remember what it was like to strut around like your dick is two size too big for your trousers. You remind me how easily my life could have continued to be plagued by meaningless, nasty fears and that is scary. You can’t paint because it is sissy. Reading is for limp-wristed scholars and singing for church ladies, no matter how nice voice you have. No dancing, that nobody would notice you are actually good at it like some poof.”

When it was put in that way, it sounded pathetic. Like being tough meant he was making himself weak, maybe not in the body, but in many other aspects of life.

“When I thought Bucky was dead… Well, I have to say even my drawing blocks or books didn’t help that much. They gave me no big understanding why my friend had died and I have to admit, I went wild for a while”, the other Steve said quietly. Even the memory of those months of sorrow seemed to be appalling for him. “One can say I fucked my way to the Ardennes. Sometimes it is really hard to keep a straight face when somebody says his grandfather was with me somewhere. _Bill Kasowski, yes_ _of course_ _I remember him…_ _he_ _gave really good head_ _._ ”

Steve noticed he had started laughing. It turned soon an uncontrollable double giggle fit, as the other Steve joined in his burst of mirth. This was… maybe he had missed just this, this rude and honest and playful soldier talk. Camaraderie and dirty jokes.

And then there had been the ice, and when the other Steve woke up...

“Were you in love with Bucky?”

“I was… still am. We were sweethearts even before the army. Not openly, of course, not then. He was found afterwards. Brainwashed by Hydra, missing his left arm. But… it got better. We are married now.”

Steve tried to digest that. He and Bucky… no, not even when they were young. It was almost impossible to imagine his little pal as a sexual partner. But maybe Tony was right. He was a big fluffy romantic inside, because the other Steve finding his Bucky didn’t feel bad at all. This James… he had to be as old as his Bucky and Gail were now. No wonder the other Steve was pissed off that his counterpart had run away after sex, he probably didn’t have any if he wanted to be faithful to his sweetheart. And he was, Steve guessed. They wouldn’t be that different. James was the one, and there was nobody else. He had thought Gail that way, even if he was seeing now he had been only going through the motions. Find a girl, have a family. As was expected. No fucking across Europe for him. Maybe he should have. Maybe if he had been more skillful Antonio would have given him some lack.

“Alright”, the other Steve said, crushing the empty cigarette box. “Now when we are nicotine high about two seconds, let’s not beat the bushes. You said you had a fiancee. I knew what that would have meant for me, no secret rendezvouses in Paris or hasty hand jobs along the road. In other words: no experience with guys, and naturally not with other gals either. So... you were a bit clumsy while you were playing and then Tony was being Tony and in your post orgasmic sensitive state you took in ill.”

Too close, and it hadn’t been a question. Steve felt how the heat started climbing from his chest to his neck and face. “That is not...”

“Not what?”

Maybe it was that all-knowing eyebrow. It was like the other Steve had sat inside his head, knowing what he was thinking before he himself knew it.

Steve exploded.

It was not just Antonio… Well, it was mostly Tony, Steve was still scared for his mate, his lover, whatever. Tony was still dying of cancer, and Steve could do nothing about the fact, so he let it all come out at once, his anger, his fear, his disappointment… when he had woken up in the future world, so much like this one here… what he had then read from the history books, what he had seen with his own eyes, how they have used their victory and turned it into the farce, this mock version of his country and the American values.

“Yes, only in the USA… You found yourself bad in the sack and try to turn it into a political debate”, the other Steve mocked him. “Hey! But your fists fucking down, soldier, or I will throw you from this roof and then we can really see how well our system heals broken bones.”

The other Steve looked like he really meant it. Maybe Steve had planned to charge him, and the leader of the Avengers had noticed that, of course he had. Maybe Steve could win him in a battle when the guy didn’t have his team to back him up, but either way, it wasn’t helping Antonio. Who was an ass, and Steve was still mad at him, but…

“That’s better”, the other Steve commented when he let his body settle in the parade rest. “I am no liberal, at least not in a way you meant it, so curb your fucking tongue! So… I would want that too, that world you were talking about, yes, I liked it when little girls wore blue, the color of Virgin Mary, and little boys were dressed in pink, that training version of manly red. But there is that thing, you know… Well, little or big, but it makes your arguments sound like some preacher man his hand inside underage hooker’s panties.”

Yes, there it still was, pulling the rug from under his feet, every time. Steve wasn’t a prime example of white Anglo-Saxon hetero male, was he, and even if he had practiced his whole life, he was still awfully bad in hypocrisy.

It was stupid and it didn’t help anything. But he wouldn’t have been himself if he hadn’t even tried to sink his fist into his counterpart’s face. That went as well as all of his doings had recently worked out, except the other Steve didn’t throw him from the roof as he had promised.

For a while Steve hoped that he would have done just that.


	8. Chapter 8

What wouldn’t he had given to take it back. That’s right, nothing. In his own universe, Antonio Stark was one of the wealthiest men in the world, in top ten, actually, but here he had nothing of his own. Even the cloths on his back were a courtesy of their hosts. The accommodation, the medical care, the food they were eating, everything. Still, it had felt like he had gained so much, that he had all he needed just in his hand’s reach. It had worked, hadn’t it? Until he had opened his stupid mouth, and said… something. He wasn’t sure what it was, but Steve had left his bed and he hadn’t come back.

It had been really nice, this last week. Steve hovering around him like a diligent nurse, raiding nice foods from the kitchen for him. Steve sitting beside his bed, watching TV with him… a companion or a watchdog, any way you like it, so endearing however. Tony could hardly keep himself in check when those big, warm hands were fluffing his pillow or helping him with a T-shirt. Every touch of Steve’s skin made the memory of that kiss raise to surface.

Kiss, that had been a key word. So smart a person Antonio felt too often stupid afterwards. What had Fury said about his bad impulse control? That even if he was healthier, he was too unreliable for real tough missions?

He had known Steve was one of his toughest and most complex mission there was, but surprise, surprise, still he had let his dick chose the beat and he had now screwed everything up, naturally. God, if he could at least accuse his medication or lack of booze… but no, it had been only him. Impatient as always, wanting everything right away, not being able to savor the moment. But to see Steve like that... it had been almost too much. So inspirational. Tony had been Tony, unhinged and obviously, Steve had fled.

They had been kissing. Why on Earth he hadn’t kept just doing that? But no, he had dived straight to the guy’s dick, tried to smother him with his tongue and then said all kind of dirty things while doing that. It was a crappy first time…

Then a horrid idea came to Antonio. What if it really had been Steve’s first time, not just with Tony, but overall… no, it couldn’t be, Steve had been with Janet, or our Janet, as he added in his mind. A funny habit, which were not so funny after all when one thought…

They were here. He had talked with the other Tony almost daily and they were no closer of getting them home. Steve was with him here, in a strange universe, without his occasional girlfriend Janet or his best friends Bucky and Gail. No wonder he felt confused. No wonder he reached out to Tony, and what had he done. That is right, straight to the dick, when even a high schooler knew that you have to do some snogging before you even thought about the third base.

He had tried to make a hasty U-turn, but that hadn’t gone so well either. “You are stupid”, he said, tapping a still half-hard organ. “Stupid and mean little Tony.”

...and now he was talking to his dick. Really, Antonio?

The nurse Charlie had took a drip away this morning. He imagined what it could have been alike, if Steve had… oh god, those hands, touching him like he had fantasized so many times. Steve’s moist breath on his skin, a hand sliding his foreskin away to get to play with the knob. That calloused thump sliding lowly over his open slid...

As proved, he had the impulse control of a three-year-old. He pushed his hands under the pillow, a proper punishment for him to make Steve feel uncomfortable. Then he tried to watch some TV, but it was really hard to concentrate. Maybe he was getting better because he hadn’t had so insistent boner after his teenager years (his increasing alcohol consumption tampering things radically.) Yes, alcohol. He hadn’t had even one tiny drink… was it really eight days now? And if he really thought which one was more damaging…

He had collected just enough excuse that he was ready to push his hand under his underwear,

when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in”, he squeaked, hands already tightly over his duvet, thinking it had to be the other Tony or some of the Avengers, but of course not. It was Steve.

“S-Steve”, he stammered, like a damn kid his hand in a cookie jar… yes, it would have been a good, old-fashioned euphemism for the act he had been considering.

Steve took a few hesitant steps forward. He had a cup which he tried to handle to Tony, but because he was still too far away, he stopped his gesture and came forward again. “I was going to bring you chocolate, but Jarvis said it had alcohol in it. He apologized, said he will start trying his recipe without.”

Tony took a cup, and really, it looked like some kind of pudding. He tasted it and saw how Steve eyes moved to somewhere under his jaw as he swallowed. Was Steve smelling… cigarettes for some reason?

Steve cleared his throat. “Sorry about not coming right back… after the shower. It is just so… Janet and I.”

It shouldn’t hurt. That was what he had always admired in Steve. His honesty and loyalty. Even if Janet and he were not really together, they were not being either. “That is totally understandable. This situation… it is no wonder you miss her.”

Steve snorted. “No, I don’t think… no more than I miss Thor.”

“Well, darling. Everybody misses Thor. There is so much to...”

...and there he went again. Couldn’t he keep his stupid mouth in check even five minutes? For his astonishment Steve didn’t show him an angry glow but seemed to give the thought some serious consideration.

“Sure, if you like those surfer types. Blond, muscular, tall… much like me actually. I would have to be narcissist to be in his fan club. And overall, I have always found his brother Loki more eye-pleasing.”

What was happening? What? Was Steve… flirting with him? Loki... Wait a minute. Loki! He was slender. And dark haired. Like Tony, haha very funny. But for a moment he had thought...

Antonio gave his customary smirk, and if it was a bit strained, well, then it was. “It is you, isn’t it? The other Steve? What is this? Are you two bonding through pranks now?”

Now there was that familiar jump of his Steve’s tense jaw muscle. “Very funny, Tony. But yes, we were… on the roof actually, and he said… Didn’t she tell you? Janet? She wasn’t… I wasn’t… like it was not for her taste.”

Now Antonio was again utterly confused.

“Are we somehow talking about sex”, he tried carefully. “Because if we are…”

Yes, an instant boner. He wondered if he could be more pathetic even if he tried.

“Yes, Tony we are talking about sex. I thought… these modern woman, they are not always such ladies, and I thought she has told you…. About me, I mean.”

Tony talking about Steve’s kinks with Janet? What a delicious thought. No, Antonio. Stop it. Focus. Focus!

“So… Alright. I think… this about us”, Tony confirmed. Steve nodded. His cheeks had gained that endearing light pinkish tinge, and Tony felt how saliva started gathering into his mouth. “We could negotiate. Yes, of course, darling. There are few things I actually don’t do, like never. I hate strangling, even the playful kind. Or any excretions...”

“Tony no!” Steve had seated himself, but those careful queries made him jump up as if Tony’s bed had turned into a nest of big and angry wasps.

“So strangling it is… or pissing on me.” Antonio couldn’t help that his voice let out some of his frustration. “You make a real tough bargain, big guy.”

Antonio was giving up. Of course he was, it was for Steve, so it was almost a patriotic act. Tony felt very noble indeed, but how come the supersoldier continued to look like things were not going the way he wanted?

“Would you shut up, Tony! God... Why would people do such a thing? Even little children learn to use a bathroom. Strangling… I would never. I know how strong I am, Tony. I would never do anything to hurt you, not even in a playful way. It was too horrible when I… when we…”

When they had thought they were going to die and Steve had considered doing Tony that one final favor.

“Alright, I am now a bit confused… Or… is this a virgin talk? Oh god, this is a virgin talk, isn’t it? You don’t have that much experience, and… Yes, I see. You want somebody to show you the ropes, and what is under and over them? Some tips to make it more exiting for your lady-love? God, what did Janet do to you, tried to ram a vibrating dildo into your ass? That could be nice, but maybe not for your first time… Alright, you contacted just the right man-whore, we aim to please.”

Tony had seldom felt such a disappointment. He had been already so sure, that… It was way worse than dropping your ice-cream on the ground or… It was… He felt how his playboy smile plastered over his face as he continued his ramblings. Maybe his smirk cracked a little around the edges but it was there, firmly in its place, Stark men were made of iron, you know… But for some reason, Steve didn’t feel satisfied with this course of action either.

“No Tony! You don’t understand... God, forget Janet, would you! I want… with you, yes I really do, but I haven’t been with anybody. Not really. I have no idea what to do. And I want it to be good for you. Not like…”

That was 240 lbs stuttering embarrassment right before Tony’s eyes. He wanted… with Tony? Not for Janet… Oh shit, what had she said to him?

“Steve, listen. We modern people, we have so much porn, that we… we wait that our partners are like pros and we are impatient and demanding.”

That seemed to take Steve back. “So… it is really no then? The other Steve said maybe I understood it wrong.”

“Understand what, darling?”

He could see that famous Rogers temper rising. “How many times I have to say it? Do you want it with me or not?”

“Oh… sure”, Tony stammered, still not believing his ears, and then Steve was already pulling his T-shirt over his head. He stopped, the shirt halfway down his arms and looked at Tony with serious eyes. “I am not doing it to you, you know.”

“What, Steve?”

“That... thing”, Steve said and clarified his opinion with some PG-13 hand gestures, which were so endearing Tony watched them a lump in his throat. Steve was meaning penetration.

“You can do it to me, if you please.”

That should have made alarm bells ring loud and clear in Tony’s head. And it did. With a little delay after he had enjoyed some hand-picked images first. “And why is that, darling? Why you but not me then?”

“You know it will hurt. I can take it, it is not a big deal, and I heal really fast. I don’t want our thing to be like… She just said go on, and I... I already told you Tony, I am not going to hurt you. Even if you ask me to.”

Was that… no, that couldn’t be with Janet, she would… Of course. Gail. Those cute innocent bastards... Maybe Steve’s former fiancee had thought the sex wasn’t supposed to be for a woman any less a sacrifice than what their men were giving in the field of battle. This was starting to be too much. Were was that famous silver tongue of Starks when you really needed it?

“Steve, darling. Nobody is going to hurt anybody. We prepare and use a ton of lube and… Let’s forget that thing for a moment. I don’t ask about Gail because I am sure she didn’t… but did Janet give you head?”

Steve’s cheeks got that tell-tale hue again. “Yes, that was why… she said… I am...”

Right. The next time Tony met Janet, he would put some glue onto her wings or something.

“I assume you didn’t last”, he suggested and Steve gave him a curt nod, still embarrassed but soldiering valiantly through his selected mission. “That is normal, darling, when you are inexperienced, and besides, you are a supersoldier with non-existing refractory period. If you want to last longer, we will make it so, it will just take some time and practice. Or did you manage to throw that salad bowl of yours with any accuracy right away?”

“No”, Steve admitted.

“Alright then. I think you were going to give me some strip-tease?”

Steve growled like an angry lion, but his fingers were already on the waist of his sweats. Tony had kept his tone light and teasing, and when the running shoes and pants were finally away, the soldier was smirking back, a douse of mirth of his own playing in his eyes.

Antonio had been afraid that… but no, Steve was not coming towards the bed like a sacrifice lamb, but not like a prowling big cat either, more like a curious, eager puppy.

“Oh my god, Steve”, he mumbled, as his teammate were adjusting that dreamy specimen of manliness alongside Tony’s more shopsoiled one. This guy was going to be a death of him.

“Look at this… all this for little old me to taste and prowl… so beautiful. Like a piece of art. If I had a block of marble I would sculpt you like that, and… You like that I praise you, don’t you?”

“Shut up, Tony”, Steve mumbled, but didn’t otherwise deny Tony’s remark. “I’m no dame.”

“What, you think only women get nice things? Welcome to the 21st century, Mr. Rogers. How about… I would like to stuff my mouth full of that first grade meat, but that means I can’t talk… what a dilemma… maybe I handle it while I am pondering this matter… if I took a firm grip of things… like this… thank god for my long fingers, darling, you have quite a girth… yes, I think we are making good progress… oh, look at that, hello there, do you have something in your eye, you are leaking awful much… maybe… we have better examine that it is nothing serious… how about if I lick it like this… yes, definitely, maybe some more samples…. Mmm…. Yes, this is it, this is what I have been looking for my dusty old cellar… Darling, I will bottle you up, you are vintage… if your precome is like that, what a wonder the main course will be like… maybe if I lick a little bit of this… and little bit of that… and slide my fingers over here… oh yes, so tight, like two coconuts… should I explore further…”

Tony was sitting between Steve’s legs, teasing his rod with his fingers and the licks of his tongue. He didn’t take Steve into his mouth, that would have made the supersoldier came immediately, and he had promised to train him. It seemed that was what Steve was doing by himself also. Those mighty thigh muscles were shaking and the man gripped the sheets like a baby monkey his mother’s back fur. His back was a taunt like a bow, ready to let arrow go. And those voices… his moans and whines and those little grunts, Tony felt he could come from those alone.

“God, darling”, he repeat, his voice hoarse. “What a sight you make. So responsive… yes, let me hear you, sweetheart, let me hear what feels good for you… so sweet, so perfect taste in my tongue… you are like silk made of flesh, darling, I would like to wrap this gift to something soft and nice… or maybe… or maybe I will just ask them if I can have one of silken gowns… just like the ones I used to have…. I remember how you liked to slide your fingers on my shoulders… to touch… to touch me discreetly like…”

“Yes”, Steve said suddenly. “Yes, I did that. Tony… Tony, on your back now… I will...”

That was the only warning he got. Then those big hands were on his hips and he was lifted into the air, pushed onto the mattress and Steve was between his legs then, repeating the things Tony had done to him and inventing some of his own. Tony litany of praise didn’t cease, though, only changed its course.

“Oh god, Steve. You are a star pupil… alright soldier… you recon… you execute… I have to say… We usually use condoms… when we do things… like this… but… your… immunity…. Yes, just like that… oh god! You are killing me darling… yes, yes, a little more pressure… Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Darling, you don’t have to… oh god, that is my brave soldier boy… a head first to the unknown… oh! Oh! Oh! Please… careful with the teeth, love… yes, just like that… Don’t… don’t… you will gag… Oh, you don’t… oh god, so good… Steve! Steve, pull away… I can’t… I will...”

Then he came. Just like that. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a drink for over a week now, or maybe those nice people very giving him some superviagra with his meds. Steve had pulled out when Tony had asked, but he got still lots of cum on his face. Lucky for him, no eye infections for supersoldiers. He didn’t look overly crossed either.

“I can lick you clean”, Tony promised.

“Sure, but I won’t be licking that sheet. Maybe we change it and then take a shower. If you want?”

Steve had come just by playing with Tony’s rod? Yes, death of me, Tony thought. But the shower didn’t sound like a bad proposition, actually, it gave Tony some ideas. Steve had made him come like some untried teenager. That needed payback. If Steve would be on his feet after Tony was through with him, his name was not Antonio Stark, playboy extraordinaire and Iron Man of this and any other universe.


	9. Chapter 9

This was it. A moment they had been readying themselves for almost a year. Director Nicholas Fury’s arrival to the research lab didn’t went unnoticed as usual, there were some extra nervous glances from the scientists who were making their final check-ups.

“We will be ready in five”, Doctor Samuel Heller was stating at the microphone. Unlike his colleagues, he wasn’t affected by his presence. Heller knew his own value better than most, without him and his theories the Project Homecoming wouldn’t exist. Without Doctor Heller, they would be still wondering, what had happened to their assets, and no, Fury was not being a prick when he was talking about Steve Rogers and Antonio Stark like they were not breathing and living human beings. He thought like that about all the people who he worked with. The people he had to order to take enormous risks, who he sometimes had to send to a certain death. Thinking about them like persons he would ask for tea and biscuits or to play a round of racquetball was out of the question.

It had been almost eighteen months now. The newspapers had milked all there was to write about that faithful battle in Long Island, and only clickbaits tried anymore. There were texts about alien abduction, which was not far from the truth, when you thought about it. They had searched the battleground right after their assets’ disappearance and found lingering residues, which were suggesting the presence of a localized space-time continuum anomaly, or a worm hole, as the general public liked to name the thing. The SHIELD (and Fury) had kept the information from the news and been very tight-lipped about things in general.

The speculations stormed wild for a while. Some romantically orientated were flashing the possibility that Rogers and Stark were decided to quit their day jobs as national superheroes and eloped together, now living in some remote place, keeping a gift shop and helping cats out of trees. They had found pictures were Captain looked at Iron Man more keenly than was necessary if they were only comrade in arms, changing details of their next strategic decisions. Those pictures were impressive as an evidence, if one didn’t know the intense stare Rogers was giving was in truth his usual angry glow to his annoying teammate, and Stark would in no circumstances be satisfied with only one dick, even if it was bigger than his own.

Then had come the Senate hearing, and Fury had to admit that yes, he had lost two of the national heroes. They were missing, suspected dead. The people mourned, no, the whole country mourned for weeks, which was funny, when usually Captain Rogers’s pig-headed opinions or his way to solve any problem with extreme violence were not respected by the more liberal-minded members of their nation. But that was not the first time when a man turned into a saint after dying. Maybe their carefully crafted PR-work was now paying off too. The New York City Council was already planning a hero park with an enormous memorial, and a constant stream of flowers and candles was still coming to the place where Captain America and Iron Man was last seen to defend the humanity against the hordes of alien Mechanoids (which had only a few hours later stopped functioning on their own because of some mysterious malfunction in their biomechanical structure). The missing heroes were all that people talked about for months, so when Fury told to Senate about Doctor Heller and his theories and suggested a research project, the funding was not a problem.

The funding and search were still going strong, as this turn of events suggested. They were ready, but unlike the general public, who still wished to see their heroes alive, Doctor Heller had poured cold water on those hopes so repeatedly they had been soaking wet and cold for months now.

“If they were alive during the initial transfer”, Doctor Heller returned to his favorite subject. “If their bodies weren’t instantly destroyed or transported to the place occupied by an alien race, which all seem to be hostile toward humans for some reason, there are numerous other dangerous element to consider. The anomaly may had left them to a place there is is no atmosphere or gravity, or if those are suitable for human, there could be other extreme elements: hot, cold, too much water, too little water, no suitable animals or plants for consumption. That is to say, even if they ended up in the paradise or among primitive, friendly aliens, even that would not be enough knowing Mr. Stark’s medical condition. The absolute best we can hope for is to get contact with Captain Rogers, which is, as I previously stated, very unlikely. Fortunately the scoop doesn’t differ between living or dead tissue, so we are probably getting something of them one way or another, dead or alive, intact or in pieces.”

Doctor Heller was not a cuddler. That was one reason Fury liked the man. They would get their assets back, dead or alive, and valuable information about the process. It wouldn’t do that some unknown force just snatched people and flung them away. The SHIELD needed any knowledge available about the incident to fight back if similar things happened again.

“We will start now, Director. The progress will be showing in the monitor on your right. The material results will appear on the scenes one and two… right about now.”

Doctor Heller had just said his piece as the alarm started to blast. In the scene one there stood now a seven feet tall robot, or somebody inside a robotic armor, which vaguely reminded Fury of those Stark had designed, but this one had not sleek surfaces or light colors like Stark’s original works. It was all black and grays, but the strong magnetic field locked it onto the floor anyway. The concentrated EMP seals, which Doctor Heller was closing around the thing, destroyed the rest of its mobility. That taken cared of, he could move to observe the specimen on the stage two. The agents had already surrounded the man in a dark combat gear. He was tall and muscular like a soldier, carrying handguns on his both hips and sporting a short bear which was lightly darker blond than his hair. On his chest there was a faint gray mark which looked like a star. On his right hand, the newcomer was carrying a shield. That was dark too, only blacks and grays and blues, but its shape and the guy’s fighting stance didn’t leave much room for speculation.

“Stand down, Agents”, Fury ordered. “Is that you, Rogers? What about that hipster look?”

“Fury”, Rogers huffed, raising his face to look at the observation deck. “Nice timing. We really weren’t doing anything important like being in the middle of the battle.”

Maybe it was sarcasm. Or maybe time went differently there where the hell they had been making their makeover.

“That was year and a half ago, soldier”, Fury said, just in case.

“We know.” The armor was now talking, and as gods would have wanted, there was no getting rid off Antonio Stark. “Steve was talking about the raid we were doing in the base of neo-Nazi organization. Steve, darling, let me out of this can, will you.”

Fury waited to hear a displeased grunt which always followed Stark’s endearments, but maybe Rogers had now other things in his mind. He pushed and twisted something and the armor Stark was wearing started fall apart at the seams. Soon Stark was standing there without his metal cover, wearing only black onesie.

“That’s right folks. Not naked and covered with goo anymore. Much more comfortable for my naughty bits this one.”

They seemed to be as they were, at least Stark was, unfortunately. But Fury had not been able to keep his position or his life all these years, if he had been careless.

“If you are who you claim to be, you know what will happen next.”

“Contamination testing”, Stark said.

“Your fist into our faces. And then interrogation and torture”, Rogers said at the same time.

Had Rogers been always that morbid? No, he was smirking, or maybe he was smirking at the Stark who was not dying of cancer.

Fury felt a strange emotion, which he had let himself feel only seldom since his childhood. He was curious. That was the thing which killed the cat, he tried to remind himself, but his guts told him there was a riddle which was not preparing to bite them in the ass. A god honest pleasant surprise was waiting, and finally, after three hours of testing, probing, and rubbing, both men were sitting (as Rogers had guessed it) in the interrogation room, their hands cuffed to the table.

“No fist in the face yet”, Rogers was mumbling. “Maybe he has started to mellow with the age.”

Maybe he was. He hadn’t even ordered to dress them in those orange jumpsuits. They were both wearing the SHIELD sweats: gray pants and white T-shirts with logos.

“What is with the attitude, Captain? Or do you think ditching your original colors would wash away a chain of command too?”

Now Rogers looked regretful. Fury knew that jumping jaw muscle though. That was Rogers being pig-headed.

“Why don’t you give Steve some lack, Fury? Eighteen months is a long time. Were thought we were stranded in that universe. We made friends. We lived and fought among them, started to built life and home. And now it all is just gone.”

Maybe Stark was an alien invader after all. He never acted and talked so sensible.

“All right, soldier”, he sighed. “From the beginning. Take your time, and Stark”, Fury added when the man was about to say something, “you let Rogers speak or the guards will escort you outside.”

Miracles indeed happen. Stark was silent the whole next hour when Rogers gave a detailed report of their doings during the last eighteen months. Fury listened, but he had also time to observe the two men sitting in front of him. Rogers was his usual hunky self, and after they had shaved his beard and hair he had also started to look that way. What was changed most was Stark. The arms below the shirt leaves had more muscle Fury had ever seen him sporting and his skin looked eerily healthy; no dark circles around his eyes from chemo or red blotches over his cheeks from binge drinking.

“So, what you are basically saying: there is a universe where people are exact copies of us.”

That was only a rhetorical question of course. Those precise measuring devices which the science team had attached to the both men were notifying Rogers was telling the truth. Or at least the truth as he knew it.

“Or we are copies of them”, Stark corrected, after Fury had nodded he could speak. Really, spooky. “Or we both are copies from some third party. Reed Richards of theirs, he had this interesting theory the universe would keep inside infinite amount of possibilities. That was the problem in his original equation, which he couldn’t solve. He could have sent us away, but he had no means to pinpoint the right place from those infinite possibilities, so there was no sense to risk it. Just think about it, an infinite amount of Tony Starks, flashing their genius and extremely cute butts. But as Steve said, there were differences too. Pepper and Natasha looked exactly like our Pepper and Nat, but were completely opposites as persons. Anthony Stark looked only a bit like me, but he had invented an armor almost like mine.”

“And then this other Steve Rogers”, Fury mused. “About who Captain Rogers gave us quite obscure description.”

“You know our Steve. So modest. But you know the drill, Fury. Supersoldier, power, strategic skills, the whole shebang. Like twin brothers. In every aspect.”

Yes, Fury know. So there was a team in that parallel universe, lead by that other Captain and organized by that other Fury (and wasn’t that the most creepiest thought today) and it contained peoples like their Ultimates. The archer. The Widow. The Wasp. The Falcon. Thor. James Buchanan Barnes. Who in that universe was called the Winter Soldier, and who was not a tiny old man, but a tall thirty something with lethal assassin skills and prosthetic arm which crushed metal as easily as a desperate writer crushes draft papers.

Fury classified that other team under twin categories of possible threats and possible allies. But there was still some things he wasn’t satisfied with.

“Stark, you said the captains were like twin brothers, same at every aspect. How come this other Captain America was married to a man then?”

The silence that followed his question was an answer in itself. Fury sighed again. Rogers didn’t do anything halfway, did he? Too bad he needed a whole new universe to get his ass out of the closet.

“Captain, you seem upset. Did you leave somebody special behind?”

“Thank God, no. Sir.”

Rogers’s eyes moved toward Stark. It was only a tiny action, but told Fury almost too much and his innards filled with ice water when a list of possible consequences rushed into his mind. It took all of his considerable self-control not to bury his fist into Stark’s smug face.

“You must be shitting me”, he hissed, standing up. Maybe some hasty steps around the room helped and he had time to modify his words a little. “Rogers, if you wanted to play an eligible bachelor, I could have vetted suitable candidates and sent them to your doorstep as a candy gram. You didn’t have to take the first available... Stark, you nasty little shit! How could you? Seducing and molesting our national icon! You should know yourself already, what do you think will happen when your wandering dick catches another bounty? Do you honestly think Rogers will be gentleman about it and break up with your whorish ass without any fuss? Shut up!” he ordered when Stark tried to speak again. “I don’t care how much dental you will have to buy after that, but I really mind bad publicity which will fall over your team! After that PR-catastrophe with Janet and Hank...”

Janet and Hank Pym had a domestic during which Hank beat Janet first to the hospital and then Steve clobbered Hank to teach him how to treat his lady-wife. Fury was well aware the supersoldier was used to solve any new problem with his fists, not with relationship negotiations.

“Now, that was what I call a proper shovel talk.”

“Stark, I said shut the fuck up!”

Rogers moved like he wanted to rush up. _Of course_ , Fury thought bitterly. Now they had a supersoldier whose main reason for being was to watch nobody talked back to his sweetheart.

“Sir, maybe you have noticed some differences. Tony has been sober over seventeen months.”

_What!_

“Too bad my sobriety support person is now in another dimension. So, Fury. If you want to vet something, you can start with that. He or she will be spying for you anyway.”

That made him calm down. A bit. Maybe now was the time to explore why the medical team couldn’t locate Stark’s brain tumor anymore?

“Oh, that. It seems when Doctor Richards is not wasting his time acting like a megalomaniac douchebag, he wastes his time exploring the universe and inventing all kind of useful things. They just microversed the tumor out of existence. Too bad. I already named it Anthony. Like a son I will never have. Oh dear. I would have been a crappy father anyway.”

“Be that as it might. Listen up, ladies.”

Fury was taking a stand to orientate himself, but Stark was of course minding nothing about it. “Director, I hope you realize talking like that to two gay men is a crappy way to present yourself.”

_What!_

“We have conversed about these issues. Maybe we could use some sensitivity training around here.”

That was from Captain Carol Danvers, the chief of security, who acted as an interrogation witness. That dirty traitor.

“Yes, thank you Captain Danvers. Now, if we could return to our main theme. You can tell me more about this training you got.”

“And now he thinks we are brainwashed by the other dimension aliens. Who would have guessed.”

“Stark, I am warning you...”

“Steve is a little sore about it, you know. It was only a standard psych evaluation and orientation course. He asked for it himself. To clear his head, you know. The thing you should have arranged for him when we dug him out of ice.”

_What!_

“Are you accusing me of something, Stark?”

“No he isn’t”, Rogers interrupted whatever Stark was about to say. “You were in need, sir. There was no time, and I wouldn’t have accepted your help anyway. We were taught like that then, you know, a man stands on his own two feet and doesn’t yap about it. I don’t say everything turns better by moaning about things, and there is some line after which repeating your sorrows only makes matters worse, so I am not such a big fan of talking even now. That other Steve was a good drawer, like a real artist, and my therapist suggested to express my feelings in the same way. Sir.”

After that surprise opening Fury needed a little break and Stark delivered. “Carol, in that other universe you got these cool superpowers and they called you Captain Marvel.”

“Really, that is odd. Like that Kree warrior?”

“Oh him. Yes. But your uniform was much nicer, and sometimes, I think, your head catches fire.”

Fury didn’t need that much time to recover and Antonio Stark was always begging for it.

“Stark, it is relief to notice at least you have your head still tightly inside your ass as usual. Captain Danvers, I think the interrogation has ended. I will inform our bossed we have our heroes back and alert the PR-department. You two ladies… fuck! You two men. You go home, and no PDA before you make a public announcement about your relationship. Or what the hell you call that what you are doing. Friends with benefits?”

Rogers managed to look as if Fury had spat him into the eye. “I would call it a little more than that, sir. We got married two months ago.”

“Congratulations!”

That was from Captain Danvers again. Fury was feeling a little faint.


	10. Chapter 10

Meeting with Fury went surprisingly well, but there were other things which were not so mellow.

Tony’s brother, Gregory Stark, had taken over Tony’s company in his absence, and if his voice stuttered and eyes got watery gleam when he saw Antonio waltzing into his board meeting, it wasn’t because of brotherly love. Such drama queens, both Starks, but scorn they had always felt towards each others was mutual. It was a mess which would take weeks or even months to uncover, and it took Tony three whole days of intensive work with the company’s legal department to even get the process started.

During that time Steve had trials of his own. Like visiting his friends, Bucky and Gail, who expected to hear about his adventures. That first time Steve chickened out and didn’t tell them about him and Antonio, but the next went better. Tony had somehow found time to buy them new rings, to replace those which were left behind, because they never took their wedding bands with them to the missions. Steve had a brief vision how the other Steve would collect the rings from their nightstands in Stark Tower, putting them into the safe, to wait for their possible return. These new ones looked the same: plain platinum with only their names and the wedding date inscribed inside.

Steve wasn’t through the front door when Gail noticed his full finger. She raised her brow, but Steve shook his head. So they ate dinner, which was excellent as usual, even if Gail needed nowadays their home nurse’s help to cook it.

She restrained herself until they were alone in the kitchen. Bucky was taking a little nap in his favorite comfy chair while Gail and Steve were putting away dirty dishes and remains of the food. Or Steve was doing the heavy lifting, and Gail was sitting at the kitchen table, telling where she wanted things to go.

“Steve, you didn’t mention any girl. Except that other Natasha and other Janet, but you weren’t talking about them like a man in love. I know that you and our Janet were close, but well, she is still married to that no good husband of hers.”

Steve had to smile at that. “I can’t remember you being ever this discreet.”

Gail reached out until she could sideswipe him with the kitchen towel she had grabbed out of habit. “I don’t want to make you feel bad. If it is something that makes you embarrassed, love.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, maybe. It was easier...”

“In that other place, you mean.”

He nodded. Gail had always understood him without the words. Perhaps that was why he had considered talking was so overrated. In that other universe, all had been so easy. They had been two rookie Avengers, Nomad and Heavy Metal. Nobody had cared if they were gay or not. Their marriage announcement in Twitter had gotten mostly positive attention. But here things would be different. They weren’t nobodies anymore, they were Captain America and Iron Man. Heroes of the nation. A legend made alive. And all that pressure which came with those titles.

Something in her mind made Gail giggle. “What?”

“I just recalled. You vain boy. You wanted to be like a movie star. Now we all now why. Men, they are so picky.”

This less than patriotic side of his recruitment legend made him smirk at his own folly. “Actually, I wanted to be more manly”, he confessed, “and here were are. Now I am drawing pictures like a… I don’t know. Like that other Steve, I suppose.”

In reality he was thinking about Paul. Paul who drew and painted like a real artist. Who Steve had been too much a coward to defend when his friends had mashed up Paul’s colors and papers. Too scared of those words his friends had shouted at Paul while leaving him lying on the ground, his usually soft eyes bleeding tears of anger and betrayal when he looked at his direction.

_Nancy boy. Fucking fairy._

“Oh Steve. That was so long time ago. I am sure your friend would have forgiven you, of course he would. I did Steve, when you asked me to.”

“You are always too generous, Gail.”

“Steve, don’t be like that. Nothing about what happened was your fault. Mine either. We were so young and naive and didn’t have even ounce of knowledge every teenager have nowadays.”

It had been that famous one time between them, but what most people didn’t know, their fumbling, painful act of love and curiosity had its severe consequences. After Steve had gone missing, Gail noticed she was pregnant. The government didn’t want a scandal which a bastard child of their national icon would have been during those days. They took her son away and lied to her he had been adopted into a decent family. In reality, he grew up in a military base with soldiers and scientist until adulthood. His leaving home was something else though. It turned out he had just played a role of an obedient soldier boy, biting his time, and when that time came, he killed every living soul in the camp, making it a flashy start for his career as a psychotic, murdering gun for hire.

Steve had stopped his rampage, permanently like. He had let them kill Gail’s son. His son. Steve had never talked about him to anybody except the other Steve during one of their rooftop meetings, and that was a conversation he didn’t want to repeat ever again.

“Look at me”, Gail said. “I am weeping like an old fool I am. Please, Steve. Something more happy sappy. Did you and Antonio have a cake in your bachelor party? Those big ones. A stripper inside?”

“Gail, you naughty gal! But how did you know it is Tony?”

Gail snorted, which nowadays reminded him of Nat. “Please! Don’t try to pull one over me. Even when you were here with that Pym woman, you were always Tony this and Tony that. Who else could it be?She was a lucky gal to dodge that catastrophe you two were heading to.”

Unlike me, was left unsaid. But Gail had promised she forgave him, and Steve had to assume it was about everything.

“Now help old woman into her throne”, Gail ordered. Steve pushed a wheelchair next to the table, but changed his mind and lifted Gail into his arms. She giggled like a teenage girl.

“A movie star.”

“I will never hear the end of it, won’t I?”

“No you won’t, love. Wake up James, will you?”

Steve put Gail down onto the couch. Then he put his huge paw on the that tiny, frail knee of his wartime best friend and gave it a careful shake.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Steve! I was just… no, that was a dream. Did Gail gave you her dessert?”

“Hugs and kisses, and I awarded her with a rate A gossip”, Steve promised, waving his full ring finger in front of his friend’s face. “Please, don’t sell me to paparazzi.”

“Yes, honey”, Gail helped, when it seemed Bucky wasn’t going to get it. “Steve and Tony, they have gotten married.”

Gail’s tone was light, but Steve’s heart was throbbing in his throat when he waited what Bucky might say. His best friend gave him an amazed look, before his nose pinched and eyes flashed in a way they had done when Steve made his bragging decision to leave the airplane without a working parachute.

“Alright! And what was the reason we were not invited? Not enough room for my oxygen bottle, huh?”

Gail’s back straightened and she gave Steve a look full of worry. They were used to the weakness of their aging bodies, but the frailty of one’s mind would be another and harder battle.

“Honey, they were in that other universe. Steve has told us all about it.”

Bucky’s bushy eyebrows climbed to his hairline as he caught a glimpse of their solemn faces. “Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t forget. I am just teasing him. But tell Steve, who was the best man? Was it that other Bucky?”

“Well, I had a choice between myself and you, and you know me, buddy. Always so vain, of course I chose me.”

“Of course. Gail, you remember how he used to yap about Leslie Howard?”

“Did he? I don’t recall. Wasn’t he playing that Wilkes character in _Gone With the Wind_?”

“Yes, and a year before that. I had to see _Pygmalion_ about ten times because of that old limey bastard. No wonder our Steve started to fancy Stark. They are two nice speaking gents.”

“It wasn’t like that”, Steve protested. “I liked the comedy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Didn’t believe then, don’t believe now. When do you bring him here? One more person pissing into his pants doesn’t matter.”

“James!”

“It's alright", Steve assured her, petting gently her arm. "Because you are so nicely asking: he is sober nowadays. No drinking, brain tumors, or whoring... Uh! Sorry, Gail. He is… well, you are right, he talks. A lot. But he is quite a funny fella. I think if you give him a chance, you will get on like a house on fire.”

Bucky was taken aback by Steve’s hasty explanations.

“You understand me wrong, Steve. I wasn’t judging you. I just thought after all this time you deserve something good for once, big guy.”

It was one of the nicest things ever said to him.

“Thank you, old buddy.”


	11. Chapter 11

As Steve had already realized, everything was so different in here than in there. So their homecoming party came, and no final decisions had been made.

To be in or to be out, that was the question.

Tony and Steve were teammates. Friends. They could stand this close. Or was this too close? Or too far, so it looked unnatural and stated they had something to hide? And don’t even start about the touching.

“Do you remember that New Year’s ball?”

Tony looked in his tuxedo like a candy in a stick. And Steve was sure he didn’t look so bad either. Antonio Stark was supposed to be a lecherous idiot. Nobody would consider it odd Tony was checking him out. Or something like that Steve tried to tell himself.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same”, Steve mumbled. “That other Tony, he could organize a party. I don’t remember I have ever laughed so much.”

Danced so much. With Antonio. And nobody had cared. Steve glimpsed at the dance floor. He had delivered Mayor’s wife to her husband and lurked then to the bar, hogged a several glasses of water, while Tony had been surrounded by businessmen and their supermodel girlfriends or perhaps they were their daughters.

“You all right, Steve?"

“I just”, Steve hesitated, when Tony took a sip from his glass, studying him over its rim. “This is a bit overwhelming, that’s all. I would have wanted to say goodbye to the other Steve and Janet.”

Tony nodded. That was all true, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “I would have wanted to finish that project I started with Anthony.”

Nat’s blinis, Thor’s bellowing laughter, even Clint’s stupid jokes. The easy camaraderie was gone and instead they had their usual doses of nasty sarcasm, brooding, and sly glimpses from the eyes of the people they had to again learn to think as their teammates.

They hadn’t told the team about their marriage yet. That would be a dead giveaway of the yawning credibility gap between them.

“Well, duty calls”, Tony said, putting down his glass. He gave a few brotherly taps on Steve’s shoulder and was gone again, mingling with these wealthy and famous people of the NYC, who ate his presence like bees ate honey. Steve had to move, or he was forced to chat with Thor who was glimpsing his way time to time. For some reason, the alien prince was the most uncomplicated of the lot. Before their abduction they had changed a few friendly words while lingering in the kitchen. Steve had warmed some milk and Thor was eating cookies: warriors and their bad dreams and insomniac ways.

Alright. If he was honest, there was no actual reason why Steve couldn’t be nicer to his teammates, ease his grumpy ways, and overall be more co-operative. He should listen to his team’s suggestions, which hadn’t been all bad. Maybe if he started with changes in his own behavior, some good things would follow.

Thor was swept away to the dance floor by a horde of glittering debutantes. Tony was now chatting with a woman of his own age, who seemed to have problems keeping herself upright. Or was there any other reason for that proprietorial grip from Tony arm? Steve’s instincts were screaming it should be him. He should be the only one touching Tony that way, but…

Yeah, but.

In one of their rooftop meetings, after his and Tony’s wedding, the other Steve had mentioned how lucky they were, meaning their unfamiliarity to the general public. Then he had showed what kind of “congratulations” he had received when he had come out of the closet, and again after he had married Bucky. There were the usual rude words and death threats, but the hardest ones to bear were the people lamenting how Steve Rogers had now ruined Captain America, their childhood hero. How it would have been better for everybody, if he had died in the war and saved the nation from this disgrace.

There had been veteran associations canceling meetings with Captain Rogers.

There were other veteran associations denouncing themselves from those decisions and asking Captain Rogers to join them as their honorary member.

So started the twitter war of the decade. A social media tsunami, which rolled around ordinary people as well as politicians and influential celebrities. There were congratulations, from private people and organizations. There were demands that Steve Rogers should step aside as a leader of the Avengers. Anything any people had even thought in his or her mind was said aloud, for and against. But one, maybe insignificant tweet among all that political, cultural, and historical heavy talk which was later analyzed by social science researchers, stuck into Steve’s brain and he remembered it now, while looking at Tony, so near but still over his reach.

It had been just some guy. An ordinary man, a thirty-something electrician, who was writing how he had been thinking about suicide, but if a man from the 40s can live his life as an openly gay man so could he and his family and relatives be damned.

Maybe there were no buts. He was a hero of the wartime nation. How about to be a fucking hero of his own life and for the man he was in love with. The man he was supposed to give his loyalty and respect. Show it then, goddammit!

It wasn’t a song they had played in their wedding, but close enough. One  of  Tony’s favorites, which had not  existed in that other universe. 

Tony seemed to halt in the middle of his sentence, then he shook his head a little and continued talking, but halted again when he saw Steve was coming towards him.

“Excuse me, can I have this dance?”

A mingle of hope and wonder flashed over Tony face. It disappeared as soon as it had come, was covered with Tony’s usual playboy smirk when Tony turned back to the discussion. How Steve hated that untrue smile when Tony directed it toward him! A tall, blond woman besides them gave Steve a regal nod and landed her hand on Steve’s arm. Steve separated from her by patting gently her arm and reaching out again. 

“I am terrible sorry for misunderstanding, ma’am. Maybe the next one? This one I asked to play for Mr. Stark here.”

Everything seemed to stop around them. Conversations, clicking of the glasses, even the dancers gave them room until Steve and Tony were in the middle of the floor. “I will lead”, Steve said under his breath and Tony nodded. They were halfway through the song until Tony was able to utter proper words again.

“Jesus, Rogers. Look at all those cameras go. I think we broke Twitter.”

“I know.”

“Fury will want us to make an official statement before the press.”

“I know.”

“You seem to be awfully calm, darling. Are you really okay with this? Your arms feel tense. If you are going to faint, big guy, I am probably not capable of keeping you upright.”

Now Steve let out a little happy smirk which in a few days would be on the cover of many magazines around the world.

“If this is a battle, you know what I do in the battles. I am going to win.”

“Yes, darling. I know. Like you always say. What the A in your helmet stands for. Not for France.”

“Not for an asspirate either.”

Tony giggled. Another prime camera shot. “Many of them will be like that, you know”, Tony said in more somber tones. “I hope you have thought a lot about this. We can still say you lost a bet. Laugh this off.”

“I didn’t lose anything. I won in the lottery. Jackpot.”

There would be lots of nasty bits, but the rest, maybe not so bad after all.

Steve’s statement was sealed with a kiss and the spontaneous applaud of the people around them. Someone hollered. Sounded like Thor.


	12. Chapter 12

“Director Fury! We have a contact!”

Fury could hear it. The howling of the alarm would have raised the death and made them annoyed in the process. It did the same to Fury, but for another reason. It was _t_ _hat_ alarm.

“Incoming! Counting on five. Five, four, three...”

Before the countdown died there was that nasty hurl again. The room was sealed with the best of Stark tech, and it could handle multidimensional travel. It was still unpleasant. There was this strange pressure like somebody unwanted was pushing against your naked body. It lasted only seconds, but the power behind the phenomenon left Fury staggering. He saw from the observation deck how there were now four figures standing down in the target area. The doors opened and agents poured in the room.

“Stand down! Get Rogers and Stark here. Asap!”

They were early. Fury had been prepared, but the situation still filled him with suspicion. The group didn’t seem overly concerned about the armed agents who had now them surrounded. Their leader raised his face to look at his direction, not seeing him and Captain Danvers behind the mirror glass, but nevertheless giving them a muted smile and a brief salute.

It was not an invasion from the outer space. It was not a terrorist attack from some strange dimension. It was just those other heroes. The Avengers. Captain and Stark had yapped about the meeting so long Fury had finally given his grudging permission. He wasn’t a human robot, you know. He knew about feelings, even if he wasn’t fan of them himself. Captain and Stark had left that other universe so abruptly they had not been able to say their goodbyes. This one was to give them some closure.

Maybe that had been a mistake of his old, foolish hart. “Son of a bitch”, Fury mumbled, looking at the sight below him in the lab. He had read Rogers and Stark’s report, interrogated them himself, but seeing this with his own eye was still spooky.

It was Captain Rogers, and he wasn’t at the same time. Like those other figures were not Janet Pym, Tony Stark, or James Barnes. Their Stark had been right. This newcomer could have fooled them. He was so much like their Rogers he could have been an illegal clone.

The door opened again and there were real Rogers and Stark, or their Rogers and Stark, Fury meant, and he was able to make proper comparisons. Starks had the light resemble close relatives could have, but this Anthony was way older, about Fury’s age, and a short man with big, dark eyes, which made him look like a purse puppy between two German shepherds. Rogers he had begged already, but Steve’s boy, Bucky… Damn, how could that be James Barnes! He was as tall as Rogers combo, with pretty boy hair and bad-ass cybernetic arm, which could easily rip a metal door from its hinges.

“Janet gal!”

Fury was pushed from his musings when Rogers rushed forward. His target was the only woman in the group, a sweet looking brunette. He lifted her in his arms, turning her around like he was five year old dancing with his favorite rag doll, and what, tickling her. She giggled in delight and slapped Rogers’s behind a few times, which made him laugh. Captain Danvers gave out a surprised gasp and even Fury felt his jaw slacken a bit. He pushed it carefully up and gritted his teeth for a good measure. But sweet Jesus! Captain Grumpy acting like a happy little kid. This was too bizarre to be real.

Janet let go and Captains met in a bro hug while Antonio and his counterpart were performing elaborate hand gestures. “Anthony”, Fury heard Antonio’s saying. “I see you have taken my advice and stopped coloring your hair. Silver is good look on you. How is Pepper?”

“Good, good! She sent her regards, and she reminded us to take this.”

There was a tiny box, which he was passing to Rogers. Fury bent forward like doing that he would see better. But damn, maybe it was something dangerous, and if not that, stupid and inconvenient.

It was the latter.

“Is that...”

“Yes”, Antonio breathed out. “Yes! Steve darling, it is our first rings!”

If Fury hadn’t known better, he would have said the sight made Rogers misty-eyed. Then he bent and kissed that other Stark on his forehead.

“I… I had almost forgotten. Tony got us new ones, and… Thank you, Sleepy.”

“Tell you what, I haven’t missed that at all”, Anthony snorted. “You rude bastards! Its not my fault I didn’t get enough vitamins as a kid like you giants.”

“Yes, we love you too Tony”, Antonio was laughing, still studying the rings as if they were priceless treasures. “Missed your sweet fifties too.”

That made Anthony yelp and push his fingers towards his ears. “I didn’t hear that shameful number! But yes, for the record, it was quite a party. Say what, how about we keep a rerun here. The after party! Or actually after after… I lost the count. Or we could unite it with our welcoming party.”

“Do we have a welcoming party for those losers, Tony?”

Antonio was shaking his head a light smile on his lips. “Yeah, darling. We… actually no, but… Alright! Birthday party it is! Anthony, did you have any strippers? Do you see what I am suggesting here.”

Both Starks turned their hopeful faces towards the other Rogers, who seemed tired of this particular way of thinking.

“Tony, I already took my shirt off for you once. Remember? Don’t be so greedy.”

“But Steve burger? With Tony stuffing?”

Fury decided he didn’t hear that, but Captain Danvers’s snickering disturbed his dignified decision.

“Alright! Alright!” Anthony gushed. “We had some actual other news.”

“Yeah, but before that. How come Nat… Is she okay?”

Rogers wasn’t Natasha Romanoff’s greatest fan, and Fury knew the matter bothered the super soldier. Black Widow of the Avengers universe had done nothing wrong against him or Antonio, it was the other way around. She had been a great friend. Or would have tried to be, if Rogers had let her. He if anybody was an obvious case of guilty conscience.

“It was Nat’s decision”, Barnes was saying. “Her counterpart made foul things, and she didn’t want to raise bad memories in anybody. The same with Bruce. He thought eating people and lost of hundreds of lives because of Hulk was a strong enough argument against his presence here. Clint… He thought his jokes would just remind his counterpart the family he has lost.”

Barton being sensitive. Now Fury had heard everything.

“And Thor? He is in Asgard again?”

Janet nodded. “His father passed away. He will stay in his realm until situation stabilizes.”

“That may take more than our lifetime”, Antonio sighed. “Please, give him our condolences.

“Of course, Antonio.”

“Yeah”, Rogers said slowly. “We have kind of sad news too. Bucky died a month ago.”

Janet was the first one to offer her sympathy. “So sorry to hear that SteveToo.”

Rogers gave out a little sad laugh after hearing his old name. “I thought nobody would ever call me that again.”

“Yeah, as you said. You are not one of those great minds. Come here, you big oaf”, the other Rogers said. The leader of the Avengers put his arm around his former comrade in arms and hugged him again. Rogers pushed his jaw onto his shoulder and left it there, and it seemed to Fury they hadn’t been doing it the first time. His voice had gotten hoarse as he explained: “Bucky had cancer. He had been ill so long. It was expected. Even a relief. For him and Gail too. She would be happy to see you, James. I have told her about you enough times.”

“Sure”, Barnes nodded. “I would like to meet her too.”

There was another round of slow hugs and hand holding which made Fury feel like a damn peeping Tom. Just when he was about to tell Captain Danvers he would be in his office, Anthony took out his phone and the atmosphere in the lab changed. Maybe it was some fantastic invention Fury’s scientists would kill to study? Silly snapshots from that infamous birthday party? But of course not. When had Fury been that lucky.

The next ten minutes the group spent looking at the baby pictures, of all things. Fury understood it was the first born girl of that other Tony and his wife, Virginia Potts-Stark.

“Oh God, Steve. She is such a cutie”, Antonio was gushing for the tenth time. But Fury didn’t care about Stark, he was looking at Rogers, a growing worry inside his gut. The man was unnaturally still, except nodding at something Stark was whispering into his ear. Fury bet this situation had reminded Rogers of the man who he had to kill to save his teammates and maybe the whole world. A very bad man, calling himself Red Skull. Steve Rogers’s wayward son. The stranger who despite the time or distance had imprinted himself deep into his being. A lost opportunity. A lost love. So much lost because of the war and those shitty decisions only heroes were managed to live through.

Fury sighed and took a better hold of the railing. After the thought had come into his mind, keeping himself upward had felt like an effort. These were the moments he really felt his age.

“Captain Danvers. Take a memo. Start vetting suitable orphaned children. Call a heads up to the PR-department, and… they probably suggest the kid should be PoC, I think. Well...”

“Sir?”

“Oh God, did they just ask Rogers and Stark to be godfathers?”

“I think so, sir.”

Right. That was it. Fury took the microphone. “Listen up la… kids”, he said and the crew turned their faces towards the mirror window. “Yeah, yeah, happy to meet the bunch of yahoos who turned our national hero so kissy feely it should be illegal, but I have some real work to do. If you leave the compound, register yourselves first with Captain Danvers, our chief of security. Play nice. Or else.”

Then Fury rushed out of the door. He was already thinking other, more important matters, deep in the hazy depths which was his mind.

Thanks for reading/leaving kudos/leaving awesome comments!

NEXT ON DECK: The Avengers Steve/Tony story, starting here:

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/24454999/chapters/59014672>


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